


Blood of the First Men - Their Second Home

by aceofhearts88



Series: Howling at the Stars [26]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Castle Black, Dorne, Family, Finally, It's going North, Meraxes the lizard, Some other characters will pop up in minor positions as well, Starfall, Winterfell, also a crap load of direwolves, not tagging characters for that yet, past and future, so many Stark children, so many direwolves, some relationships are obviously from the past, there'll be a surprise post credit scene chapter at the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: Not a year after learning about Jon's true heritage, Jon and Torrhen travel North with their family, more than ever excited to see the lands Lyanna and Brandon Stark grew up on.Their journey will bring them to Winterfell and even further North to the Wall and Castle Black, and next to meeting the Starks, making new friends and visiting the crypts, Jon also sits down and writes a letter to a King.There is someone he wants to take back home.And Torrhen? Forget the elephant, this new friend was the best thing ever.





	1. Preface - A Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here it begins, their journey and trip North.
> 
> Right at the beginning some pointers: Jon is ten, Torrhen is eleven. Which means we have the year 293 AC. That in turn means Arya is not yet 4, so don't expect any too wild adventures with Jon and her. There'll be more direwolves than children with Stark blood, for a good reason because they appear earlier here than in canon and I want the options of more kids still in the future. Rickon isn't even born in 293 and Ben and Allyria are still young.
> 
> Also in this story: the secrecy behind Rhaena's father will quickly come to an end and maybe we'll even get to see the man.
> 
> We'll start with a preface, prologue will come soon and then we'll see how many chapters I want to do for this. One thing I already know is that there will be an accompanying Oneshot to this fic, it's not necessary for the plot. It'll be a look in the past, the "real" past, as Jon tells Rhaena a story, the main characters in his story will be Prince Maekar, Prince Aerion and an original House Dayne Characters called Floryn.
> 
> Hope you like this one, it was a long time coming.
> 
> Let's go North.

There was a small silver shining sharp blade at his Prince's throat and still Arthur had never felt so relaxed before and he gladly went back to closing his eyes and dozing through this terrible headache. 

“Stop twitching.”

“I'm not twitching.” Rhaegar complained in an annoyed fond huff, “I am holding perfectly still, I'll have you know. Your hand is twitching, which should make me nervous.” He pointed out but Arthur knew Rhaegar would still be smiling again. “I thought you've done this plenty of times before.”  
“Yes, with sturdy Northmen,” Lyanna grumbled and Arthur heard her wiping off the blade once more, “Not with dainty little Valyrian Princes.” Rhaegar huffed again and Arthur bit his lips to keep from laughing, “What do you think your handsome Knight will do if I cut you?”

“Laugh.” Arthur didn't give his friend any chance to respond himself, still keeping his eyes closed, he nevertheless grinned, just knowing that Rhaegar was scowling over to him. “And then press a cloth over his dainty little wound and laugh some more.”  
“You need a trim yourself, my friend.” Rhaegar said with challenge dripping from his tongue but Arthur shrugged and didn't even have to say something because Lyanna already came to his defense.

“Contrary to you, my darling, Arthur looks only more handsome with some stubble.” Lyanna snickered, water splashed in the next moment and Lyanna squeaked. Arthur opened his eyes again and found Rhaegar with one hand still in the water bowel while Lyanna stared at him with water dripping down her face. “You're such a child.” Rhaegar went so far as to stick his tongue out at her but then squeaked himself when Lyanna pulled his chin up again and set the shaving blade back to his jaw. “And now hold still or I'm getting Oswell up here.”

Rhaegar grumbled something under his breath but heeded her wish, holding himself perfectly still. Arthur watched them with tired eyes, how Lyanna finally finished shaving Rhaegar and then dropped the blade back onto the table before grinning when Rhaegar pulled her onto his lap with quick hands.

They kissed and then both turned their heads to look over to Arthur who was still lying exactly where he had been placed by both of them earlier, in their bed, after Oswell had tattled over Arthur's too pale face and unfocused eyes as he had taken over watch from Arthur.

They had fussed over him for minutes until Arthur had given in and let them do whatever they wanted, finally giving up in pretending this headache wasn't threatening to slice his head in two. 

“How are you doing?” Rhaegar wanted to know and the worry in his eyes, Arthur hated it as always, “And don't tell me 'you're fine', because I can see that you're not.” Arthur sighed and rolled onto his back, grimacing when the wettened cloth that Lyanna had laid on his forehead earlier slipped off and landed in the crook of his neck.  
“It's just a headache.” He told both of them, “Really. I pushed myself too much yesterday, especially out in the sun. It's been too long since I trained under Dornish skies. I'll be fine.”

“Of course, you'll be fine.” Lyanna agreed and Arthur saw how she pushed herself off of Rhaegar's legs, stepped up to the bed and then crawled upon it, sitting down on her knees next to Arthur's hips. She picked up the cloth and laid it back on his forehead, stroking a hand through his hair, it was getting too long but they didn't have scissors and as much as he trusted Lyanna with a blade, he wouldn't let her hack at his hair. “We'll take good care of you. Rhaegar could surely fetch more water from the well.”

“I'm only thriving to be your humble servant.” Rhaegar joked but picked himself up from his chair, patting off his tunic before rolling his shoulders to get rid of any lasting tension in them. Lyanna snickered as he went off to actually fetch some fresh water. Once the door was closed, she turned those kind grey eyes back on Arthur.

“I'm wondering how you would fare in the North.” Lyanna mused, taking the warmed up cloth and throwing it over to the table, it landed directly next to the shaving blade. “Now where I see where you truly were born and raised. How you say it gets cold here in the nights and I can only say that I can at least breathe easily again when the sun is gone. You would be freezing with only one step past the Neck, we'd have to bundle you up.” She giggled and Arthur snorted, only to wince when it aggravated his head again.

“Can you tell me more about Winterfell again?” He asked her instead, closing his eyes again to get away from the light, Lyanna laid down at his side.  
“All day long.” Lyanna told him and he could hear the smile in her voice, “I already told you about my favourite place in Winterfell, so let me tell you about my second favourite place now.”

Arthur listened, let Lyanna's voice and her happiness soothe his headache, he tried to picture the places she described and wished nothing more than to one day have the chance to see it all with his own eyes. To stand in Winterfell with Lyanna and Rhaegar at his sides.

\--

“...And so I invite you, my nephews, to come North and visit Winterfell so you may see the childhood homes of your father and mother respectively with your family at your sides. I am very much looking forward to welcome you in my home and see for myself how much you two have grown. With love, Uncle Ned.”

Jon's voice had finished speaking for barely a moment's breath before Torrhen and him were already screaming in joy.


	2. Prologue: Dragon Eggs, A Truth and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, cat is out of the back because the Prologue crashed while uploading and the Dayne Family Tree did not.  
> So not how I had planned this, but whatever, too late.  
> Hope this is still a sweet chapter.

“Take it.”

Round violet eyes were looking at him, staring at him in utter disbelief and confusion and hands made absolute no move to actually take the eggs from his. Jon bit his lips to keep the grin from slipping over them and chanced a look to his side where Torrhen was rolling his eyes over his sister's frozen state.

They were down in the dungeons, down in the treasure room how Torrhen liked to call it now, looking at the chest and its content. And of course the dragon eggs. Edric was shifting the shield with the laughing weirdwood tree around in his hands, Alys and Ana were still deeming the place too creepy to come out from behind Torrhen's legs.

“Rae, take the egg, please, it's yours.” Jon repeated his words from a few minutes ago a little more insistently and pressed the white dragon egg against Rhaena's chest. Snapped from a spell almost, Rhaena raised her hands finally to take it from his hands, cradling it against her chest.  
“But I don't understand.” She spluttered nonetheless, “Those are your eggs, Jon, not ours. You didn't give one to any of the others, why me?”

Why indeed...

Frankly speaking, Jon had no idea just why he needed to give the white egg to Rhaena, he just knew he needed to, that it wasn't his, just like the green one. They called to him but not like the violet one did, that one was his and his alone. The others he was meant to protect, to keep safe until he could give them to those they belonged to.

And the white one was Rhaena's now.

“You're not like them.” Was his feeble reply and Rhaena raised a sharp eyebrow, calling stupid bullshit on his explanation, she looked creepily like Aunt Ashara with that look. “You are not, aren't you?” He nevertheless pushed on, “Alys, Lya, Edric and Ana have only little blood of Valyria through Grandma Eleana in them, they are Dornish. Torrhen is as Stark as they come and do you really want to imagine him with a dragon?”

Rhaena pulled a face and Torrhen scoffed at both of them, reaching down to pull Alys up into his arms and settling her on his hip, Ana reached for his sleeve.

“But we don't know who your father is, maybe you're more Valyrian than any of us. I just know that this egg isn't mine, it's yours. I don't know if they'll ever hatch, Uncle Oberyn isn't letting me have those dragon scrolls, but if they hatch, the dragon will answer to you, and you alone.” Jon knew how to put his foot down on something and even if Rhaena could be stubborn when she wanted to, she was way too sweet to do so most of the time. Proven when she just smiled now, bright and wonderful and so happy, cradled the egg tighter against her chest and thanked him greatly.

“What about the green one then?” Edric broke the moment, hanging the rather clumsily painted shield back onto the hook in the wall, it looked funny next to the finely made sword of Rhaegar Targaryen – though if Jon ever told that to Uncle Benjen, he was gonna have to run for his life.  
“Well,” Jon began and stepped back next to the chest, his hand immediately going to rest upon the violet egg, his his his, “Its owner still lives, so of course it still belongs to Maester Aemon.”

“The man is up at the Wall.” Torrhen pointed out drily and Jon stuck his tongue out at him, prompting Alys and Ana to giggle for the first time since they had stepped down here.  
“Genius, I might have just forgotten it if you hadn't so helpfully pointed it out.” Jon shot back at his cousin and Torrhen scowled, “Luckily we're going to Winterfell soon and I am so close to convincing Papa to let me see the Wall, too.”

He indicated a space between his fingers that was extremely smaller than the actual closeness of convincing his father to let Jon see Castle Black and the very distant uncle. His father had only started caving in a little since Jon had started working on Uncle Aurane, quite the cheap move but Jon wanted to see the Wall and Maester Aemon. If Aurane agreed to wanting to see him, too, well, two people working on Jon's Papa was better than just one, and Aurane was more closely related to Maester Aemon than Jon after all.

The real deal of course would be to snatch up Uncle Lucerys and get him alone for once, he was the closest thing to a Grandfather Jon had next to Elion, and he was Maester Aemon's nephew, but Jon had the peculiar feeling that Uncle Lucerys had somehow caught onto Jon's plans and was avoiding to be alone with him.

“Why didn't you give the white egg to Uncle Lucerys?” Rhaena wanted to know when she walked up next to him again, holding her egg still carefully in her hands. “It was laid in the crib of his mother, wasn't it?” That was what Uncle Lucerys had explained to Jon after he had been shown the eggs, and Jon had immediately asked him why he didn't take the white egg back to Driftmark.

“He doesn't want it, said he feels something is there in it but he doesn't feel it calling to him, not like his mother had always explained it felt for her. You can feel it, can you not?” Jon wondered out loud even if he knew the answer already somehow, Rhaena nodded, furrowed brows as she looked down at the golden swirls in the white egg. Torrhen looked like he might want to take the egg from his sister's hands, alone to wipe that look off of her face.

“And Uncle Aurane? Or Uncle Corlyn?”

“Corlyn said he has enough problems to worry about on Driftmark, he doesn't need an egg to worry about as well. And Aurane...Papa started laughing so loud when I asked Aurane if he wants his grandmother's egg, and then Aurane started tickling him and...we didn't finish that conversation.” Every child in the room grimaced with him, grown ups were weird. “But the egg is yours anyway. It belongs to you, Rhaena, not anyone else.”

And outside the old dungeon master's room Arthur was staring at Aurane, entirely gobsmacked.

\--

“Princess Rhaena Targaryen was a dragonrider.”

Arthur was taking the steps back out of the dungeons two at a time, and even when Aurane had no trouble keeping up with him, he could hear the other man's sharp breaths.

“Dreamfyre or something. Lady Rhaena Targaryen hatched dragons twice, even if there was never any records of her actually getting to fly the beasts.” He grumbled out loud, something in his chest was pinching with that same eerie feeling he always had when he was thinking about the topic of his niece's father.

“You think Jon gave her the egg because of her name?” Aurane wanted to know, grabbing Arthur's hand when he made to just turn left at the end of the stairs to get to the sitting room where he knew his older younger sister to be at this time of day, “Hey, hey, one second to think, darling.” Arthur took a breath and let Aurane intertwine the fingers of his left with Arthur's right.  
“I don't know why Jon gave her the egg. But I also think that Jon doesn't really know why he gave Rae the egg, and that is what drives me up the wall here. It's your grandmother's egg, Aurane.”

“And?”

“Ashara told me she named Rhaena in memory of Rhaegar.” Arthur began, his thoughts falling over themselves because something seemed to sit right on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn't grasp it. Back when he had been so enarmored by his little beautiful niece, touched by Ashara's decision to name her daughter after their lost friend.   
“I know, you told me.” Aurane reminded him softly and Arthur hated that he was confusing him so, but Aurane at least tried to play the mind game, “Do you think Ashara lied? Do you think Rhaena might be a Blackfyre?”

“No.” Arthur gritted through his teeth, nearly flinching upon the dreaded bastard line's name, wondering why he was so angry suddenly, “I think my sister owes us both a massive explanation.” He grumbled, trying to make sense and coming up blank and so long he had wondered but let Ashara have her will, Rhaena was a smart happy child, let her father be a secret.

But now...

A dragon egg wasn't just something.

“Us both...” Aurane drew back a little and blinked, having spoken slowly, green eyes so confused, “I'm really not following you anymore.”  
“Rhaena is not a Blackfyre, Ash wouldn't be that stupid.” Or cruel, Arthur added in his mind, their family had been dealt a hard blow during the Blackfyre Rebellions, and she wouldn't dare bring that blood into their family while they were protecting Rhaegar's trueborn son, “We've been joking all the time just how much Rhaena looks like my mother, but she doesn't, does she? My mother had blue eyes, my mother didn't have those sharp cheekbones and those small ears, but we both know someone who did. Right along with the silverblond hair, with the thinness and the grace, with the round shaped eyes, and I'm just confused right now because it's not making sense.”

“Rhaena looks like my grandmother.” Aurane gasped out the realization and dropped Arthur's hand, confusion bleeding into a mind running over the facial features of Arthur's oldest niece.  
“But how? How, Aurane?” Arthur pushed back, needed to have some kind of verbal argument over it to figure out what felt like so close and they were bloody standing in the middle of the corridor, “Ashara didn't leave Volantis once in those five years. Laeno has never been with a woman, he couldn't have given you any cousins. And Corlyn wouldn't even find Volantis on a map.”

“Well, there is always Grandma's side of her blood...” Aurane proposed in half a smile and half a grimace, Lady Rhae had had five older siblings, one of which Jon was descending from and two of the others Arthur would rather beg the gods and the stars to not be the ancestors of his beautiful niece's blood.

And anyway...

“How would that work? Aurane, I know Targaryen history.” Arthur tried to apply logic, one of Rhaegar's favourite ways to get Arthur's head to shut up when they had been younger was to list down Targaryen family trees until Arthur couldn't decide anymore if person or dragon.

“Yeah, I know it, too. Aemon, we can rule him out, he went to the Citadel as a child, he honors those oaths. Aegon was faithful to his wife, I know that father told us often enough that Aegon would have never even thought about taking a mistress because of what had all happened with the last King Aegon before him. He loved Betha Blackwood, there was nothing arranged there. And Princess Daella married a Stormlander Lord, can't recall which one but I don't recall Grandma ever saying something nice about her, her husband or their children.”

“Daeron was a drunken fool. And he loved his whores.” Arthur offered up and Aurane snorted, stepping a step to the side and leaning against the wall, eyes flickering up to one of the portraits of a Lord of Starfall. Incidentally it was Lord Dondric Dayne, how Arthur noted after a brief glance himself, the brother of Lady Dyanna, mother to the children they were currently discussing.

“Yeah, but he loved his whores in Westeros. And whores take moon tea.” Aurane explained as if he had a lot of experience in the genre, or any at all.  
“Aerion...I mean the man was a monster...” Arthur shuddered himself through the last candidate, Aerys would have loved the man, no doubt there.

“That is putting it mildly. I know that Grandma always tried to speak fondly of him but it wasn't hard to see that even four decades after his death, she was still afraid of him.” Aurane recalled and winced a little, Arthur could sympathise, he would want a cruel violent brother who threatened his siblings and thought himself a dragon made man to be forgotten as well.

Despite what he had done for House Dayne.

“He spent time in Lys.”

“Aerion was arrogant and mad enough that everyone not Targaryen was a peasant below him, even those with Valyrian features. He detested his own cousins, except for loyal Floryn.” Aurane was quick to run that down a drain as well, eyes set on Arthur again and Arthur was beginning to not like the look in them, “Sure, Brightflame may have slept with women in those years in exile but I doubt he would have found any of them worthy to carry his child.”  
“We don't know what happened to his trueborn son. Or at least, I don't remember if Rhaegar ever mentioned something in his days spent trying to bore me to death with family trees.” Arthur tried it with another remembered name but Aurane shook his head before he had even finished.

“Died as a child still.”

“Why are you so dead set on trying to uproot any of my theories right now?” Arthur wanted to know and took a step closer to Aurane who was suddenly biting his lips, visibly holding himself back from saying something, “Aurane, spit it out.” Aurane took a deep breath and looked at him as he began to speak.

“I think Rhaena doesn't just by chance look like my grandmother, she doesn't just by chance get gifted her egg by Jon. And I think Ashara didn't just name her for Rhaegar.” He listed it all down and then grabbed both of Arthur's hands, holding on tightly, his voice dropping into a whisper, “Arthur...Jace is alive.” 

“What the...”

“I promised Corlyn not to say anything,” Aurane didn't let him get more than words out, crowding closer, his eyes so wide and words nearly falling over themselves as they poured out, “Not even to you and trust me, I wanted to. I wanted to say something so badly. There was a scroll, no one has any idea how it arrived on Driftmark before the Ironborn Rebellion but it carried Jace's handwriting, his signature, words in code. He is alive, Arthur, but we don't know what he is up to.”

Arthur needed a very long moment of mentally coming to terms with that reveal, not angry with Aurane at all, that had been his secret to protect. Still, he pulled back.

“I'm gonna go and kill my sister now.”

“Arthur!” Aurane held him back, hands grasping tightly onto his arms, Arthur blew out a breath before he turned around once more.  
“She knew! If what you are thinking is true then Ashara knew for years that Jace is alive! And she looked Lucerys and you in the eye and said nothing! She lied to us! Don't you think you deserved better, deserved to know if she is your niece, that Lucerys deserves to know if the girl he fusses over is his granddaughter?” And then Arthur paused as his mind presented him with a curious question, “Does Uncle Lucerys know that Jace is alive?”

“No.”

“No?”

“We don't know how to tell him.” Aurane admitted quietly and Arthur pulled him back into his arms, “If he hears that Jace is alive and out there somewhere, he will go and search for him again. And Jace doesn't want to be found, for whatever reason it may be. I can't do that to my father.”

“I'm gonna find Andric.” Arthur decided and grabbed Aurane's hand, pulling him down the corridor but going left where they should have gone right, his brother's solar would be right up the next flight of stairs. “I'm too angry right now to even look at Ashara without yelling.”

\--

“Congratulations.” Andric announced as he stepped into the family sitting room with Arthur and Aurane at his back, Ashara exchanged a look with Eyrin and set her letters to the side to raise an eyebrow at her oldest brother. Andric looked nearly pissed and that was never good, “Time of reckoning has come, you're gonna answer some questions now.”

“Questions?” Ashara demanded, eyes flittering over Aurane's uncomfortable posture and the clear anger in Arthur's tenseness. It made her hackles rise up when Andric pointed for them to sit down on the settee while he pulled up a chair directly in front of Ashara.  
“I've been patient with you. I've shown understanding for the pain you went through, for the suffering you endured. I let you have your freedom and I only ever demanded one thing from you in turn.” Andric hissed all dangerous desert snake that he had been raised to be at court in Sunspear, Eyrin looked in confusion to her husband. “Honesty.”

A bad feeling was developing in her chest.

“I asked for honesty.” Andric went on without a real pause, “Simple honesty because if I need to protect my sister from the opinions of the entire realm then I will know at all times what is coming for me.” And his eyes, that blue looking so purple in darkened light, they looked so much like her late father's that Ashara's heart squeezed painfully. “I'm the head of our House, sister, and I wanna be your brother, I wanna be your protector but I can't stop being the Lord of Starfall as well.”

“What happened?” She wanted to know, frowning over how Arthur was glaring at her while Aurane couldn't even meet her eyes.  
“The kids are down in the chest room. Arthur and Aurane went down to fetch them to get cleaned up for lunch, and now, congratulations, your daughter owns a dragon egg.” Andric snarled out in his quiet voice and Ashara's heart stopped for a good long moment as she glanced over to Arthur and Aurane trying to vanish in her brother's shadow.

Oh no.

“I let you keep Rhaena's father a secret because I believed your explanation that the truth would make things more complicated and could even become dangerous for Rhaena. Well, my patience is at an end because if you knowingly brought Blackfyre blood into our family, then ashamed wouldn't even cut it close.” Andric snapped and Ashara looked back to him, “You know how much our family has suffered under the Blackfyre Rebellions.”

We could have had a Queen, Ashara thought as her heart began to beat harder, we could have had a Queen Dyanna if the stress and fear hadn't made her so sick. We almost lost a Sword of the Morning to Aegor Rivers and Blackfyre itself in the Third Blackfyre Rebellion. Nearly lost Dawn to Bittersteel if not for Prince Aerion's not so heroic actions on orders of his father. House Dayne lost over a hundred Knights. Lost their second son. Nearly lost their Lord and his only heir as well in the year before.

“Rhaena is not a Blackfyre.” She clarified, voice stable and eyes switching between her clearly furious brothers but it was Aurane then who raised his eyes finally towards her and spoke up, and his words took her breath away, just the same way as green eyes had seven years ago in a tavern in Volantis.

“She's Jace's daughter.”

“I...”

“Ashara, I swear on Dawn's legacy,” Arthur began with a true snarl in his voice that he had not ever carried before leaving for King's Landing as a boy, “You can lie to Andric, you can lie to me but don't you even dare think about lying to Aurane right now.”  
“Yes.” Ashara began and looked from her brothers over to Aurane, “Yes, Rhaena is Jace's daughter, she's your niece.”

“My father doesn't know that Jace is alive.”

“What?” Andric called out and whirled around on his chair to glare at Aurane now, “Are you frigging kidding me?” He demanded to know and Ashara saw that he at least hadn't known it until Aurane and Arthur must have come to him, she wondered how long Arthur and Aurane had known, “I get not telling it to me, I've never been that close to Jace and I got a lot of other problems to deal with right now already, but your own father? Aurane!”

“None of that is the point now,” Arthur brought them back on track and Ashara knew he was going to be angry with her for a long time still, “How could you? How could you look me in the eyes and tell me her father is of no importance when Jace was not only in the same city as we were but obviously meeting you. Did you not for a second think of what he left behind? Whom he left behind?”

Ashara took a deep breath, she knew it would come back to bite her in the ass at some point, Rhaena had so far not bothered to ask. Barristan, the only one who had known, hadn't made any push for her to say something, even though Lucerys was his friend and he must have known how much it had hurt Lucerys to lose his son.

“Jace asked me to not tell. Not you, not to anyone here if we ever returned.”

“Why?” Aurane was so raw with nerves and Arthur's anger only doubled, Ashara cursed herself in the privacy of her mind, cursed Jace for whatever his secret agendas had been. She had only wanted a second child, a second child whose father would not one day come to take him or her away from her, so it couldn't have been a stranger. Meeting Jace had felt so much like fate, and falling into bed with him had not been a ploy, it had just felt good. “What is Jace doing in Essos? What can possibly be so important?”

“I don't know.” Ashara answered honestly, because she had no idea, she truly hadn't, of course she had asked but Jace only smiled, pressed a finger to her lips and not said a single word. “He didn't tell me.” Andric's eyes narrowed at her but not for long, he could see she wasn't lying.  
“Does he know he has a daughter?” Aurane continued with the questions and she nodded, she had managed to run into him one more time a few moons after Rhaena's birth to let him know about his daughter.

“Does he know about Jon?” Arthur's voice was way harder and sharper than the one of the still shocked man sitting next to him, Aurane looked so tired suddenly.  
“Yes...But,” she hurried to go on when her brother's eyes flashed, “In my defense, he figured it out alone. He saw you with the boys in the harbor shortly after we met for the first time, he figured it out rather quickly. Jon's eyes were all indigo back then still.” They still had the shape of Rhaegar's eyes and the look in them was usually all Rhaegar as well, only the color had since gotten a beautiful violet. “He asked me and I didn't deny it, but I also didn't confirm anything.”

“I need some air,” Aurane suddenly announced and jumped to his feet before bolting from the room, Ashara saw how Arthur threw one helpless look to Andric and then hurried after Aurane. Andric sighed when both of them were gone and then dragged a hand roughly down his face.

“I wish this family could just be normal.” He grunted and then looked back to her, “I get it, alright? I get it.” He said and still looked annoyed, frustrated and tired, Ashara exchanged a look with Eyrin who had silently watched the whole show. “I'm not angry at you but please do understand that Arthur and Aurane both have a right to be angry at you for keeping this secret. And Aurane and you will figure out together how to tell Lucerys because he deserves to know. And if Jace ever shows his face around here again, I'm gonna put him over my knee.”

“When is it gonna be lunch time?” Torrhen had everybody jump as the children suddenly filled the room, Ashara caught sight of her beaming daughter and sighed.

\--

“Aurane is gonna be alright, isn't he?”

Arthur looked up from where he had been stroking Meraxes' back, leaned back against the oak tree that sheltered the still very much growing weirwood tree in Starfall's godswood. Jon was sitting crosslegged in front of him, twisting a piece of wood around in his hands while the woodwork knife laid in the grass next to his right hip.

“Aurane needs breathing space right now but he's gonna be fine. Finding out that Rhaena is his niece shook him up a bit.” Arthur gave in response, he was itching himself to go out and make sure that Aurane was really okay, but he also knew that Aurane needed some space right now. Space and time to think without anyone bearing down on him so he had let him disappear down to the beach, walking along the sea would calm the storm inside of him all on its own.

“I'm actually happy about it, is that weird?” Jon asked him, looking confused, and it was definitely refreshing to see him puzzled by something for once. It made it feel like he was still only a child and not already growing up so fast. Jon usually had answers to everything, like Rhaegar always had, but now Arthur could be the one using his experience as an adult.

“Why would it be weird?” He wanted to know right back, knowing himself what Jon was hinting at, realizing and getting proof over Rhaena's father being not a stranger but a friend, it was soothing. Arthur had sometimes in the last years feared that maybe someday a nobleman from Lys might turn up in Starfall and demand his daughter to come with him.

Right now, he actually wished Rhaena's father would turn up. House Velaryon needed Jace back to be prepared for the storm that might be coming their way in the next years. Corlyn needed Jace back to finally stop the guilt that was still eating him up inside, he needed Jace's strength to support him where he was becoming a head figure in the Crownlands. Aurane needed Jace back, had always needed his big brother back.

And Lucerys needed his son back anyway, especially now where the dragon eggs and Jon's dragon dreams had brought so many bad memories of Summerhall up again.

“I don't know. It's a real shock but ever since I knew, I wanted Aurane and Corlyn to get that miracle and have their brother back, and now they not only know that their brother is alive and might one day come home but they also got a niece. And Uncle Lucerys got a granddaughter.” Jon explained his own thoughts that were so similar to Arthur's own, “Will he be mad about his sons and Ashara keeping the truth from him?” Jon frowned over his piece of wood, Arthur had no idea what it was supposed to turn into, Jon had told him to wait and not to ask while he was still working on it.

“He'll be too relieved and happy that Jace lives to be mad.” Arthur took that small worry away, one thing that had never changed over the years still was Jon's displeasure at seeing people he cared about sad or angry. Jon hummed, starting to chip off wood edges again.  
“And Rhaena's father being a Velaryon certainly explains why I wanted to give her the egg.” Jon brought up then and Arthur was immensely proud over not wincing.

Something he had gotten progressively better at since they had showed the dragon eggs to Jon, and Torrhen hovering at his shoulder like a shadow. He really hadn't liked all this sudden revelation over dragon dreams, if there was one thing he hadn't wanted Jon to inherit from his sire, than that would be it.

“Why did you do it, Jon?” Arthur questioned what had happened earlier this day, his niece holding that white dragon egg in her hands that had once belonged to her great-grandmother, the woman she had been named after. Rhaena's eyes had looked just like Jon's. So full of something that Arthur couldn't find a name for.  
“Because it was right. Because it belongs to her, not to me. It's...I can't explain it, not really but it didn't feel like mine. I only dreamed of the violet dragon, there were never any others. Just him.”  
“I wish hearing you talk like that wasn't freaking me out so much.” Arthur sighed and watched silently how Jon set wood and knife to the side and got over to him, flopping back down against his side, tickling Meraxes on her neck.

“And I wish I could explain better to not have people freak out so much. I know it sounds...” Jon stopped, clearly thinking about what word to use and Arthur supplied one before he could make up his mind.  
“Special.” He emphasized strongly, his fingers moving against Meraxes' back again after she had bumped her head against his arm, “It sounds special, don't say mad, Jon.”  
“There have been Targaryens before who had these kind of dreams. Dyanna's oldest son had them.” Jon pointed out, of course being quick as a whip again when it came to historical facts of any kind.  
“Daeron was also a drunk because he didn't know how to deal with those images.” Arthur didn't let himself be cowed and gave his comeback, smiling a little over Jon's defiant scowl.

“I write them down, that helps, too. I'm okay, Papa.” He assured Arthur and giggled when Meraxes licked at his fingers.  
“I know. I'm just worried.” Arthus sighed, wrapping an arm around Jon's shoulders, “Your ancestors have tried to bring back the dragons for a long time and many paid with their lives. Or the lives of others. I don't have to remind you over what happened the first time someone tried to bring the very same eggs you look at now to life.”

He wouldn't have to, not after Lucerys had taken over that job himself and told Jon without softening any details about the tragedy of Summerhall.

“I don't think fire is the solution. Or blood for that matter.” Jon surprised him with his next words and Arthur cringed, on one hand glad to hear it, on the other dreading what was going on in Jon's mind as the next option.  
“If you say magic, I'm gonna gift you a dunk into the coldest corner of the Torrentine that I can find.” He made his point clear because the very last thing he needed now was to have Jon play around with something the whole realm would frown over, even Dorne.

“Believing.”

A moment of stunned silence followed that statement and Arthur found himself staring down at Jon and in turn being stared back at from sweet violet eyes, only able to mutter a confused “what” after a few breaths.

“The dragons didn't take magic away, it didn't die with them.” Jon began to explain and Arthur only at first found himself thinking where he might have read that again, maybe they shouldn't have let Jon ride off to the Citadel with only Tyene and Richard around. Those two only ever did exactly what Jon wanted anyway, “People just stopped believing, or at least that's how I see it. Aegon the Unlikely, he wanted dragons because of how much his family had been brought into instability. The realm wasn't happy about the mess that almost all of his children had created, but having actual dragons around...well, no one was gonna end up doubting the power of the Targaryens then. And Aegon was a King of the last generation of Targaryens who still had eggs in their cradles, of course he would consider it his...fate to try. Though the way he went about it... Summerhall shouldn't have happened.”

“So Lucerys scared you something fierce then?” Arthur asked and maybe he felt a bit terrible about it but too many Targaryens had died just because they wanted dragon eggs to hatch, and he would not lose Jon, not ever.  
“Yes. And it's not gonna be repeated but I still know that my egg is gonna hatch, Papa.” Jon insisted and Arthur sighed again.

“Is that the reason on why you are so stubborn in asking to ride to the Wall and see Maester Aemon?” He directed the topic into hopefully safer waters, even though he very much knew what he was stumbling into by opening himself up to this argument once more.  
“Among others. It's not the biggest though. Don't you think he deserves to know that he isn't the last one? The last Targaryen, I mean. That aside from his mother's family and his little sister's family, there still is someone here in Westeros with him?” Jon argued and Arthur fought against the urge to knock his head against the tree behind himself. 

And there it was once more, the knockout arguments coming to break him down.

“You'd have to be very careful.” Arthur began and saw how Jon broke out into a blinding grin and how could someone ever say no to him, “No one can know the truth, Jon, or you'd be in grave danger.” He reminded him nevertheless and Jon nodded right away.  
“You'd be with me,” Jon pointed out and Arthur's heart filled with so much warmth over the trust, “Uncle Aurane will be with me. Nothing can happen.”

“You want me to go even further into ice and snow than I already agreed to?”

Both of them looked up and over to where Aurane was walking towards them, looking a little redeyed but smiling.

“I can be very convincing.” Jon smirked and Aurane snorted when he dropped down on Arthur's other side, one more hand coming to pet Meraxes who would have surely been purring, had she been able to produce such sounds.  
“Nothing but ice and snow and cold for miles, Jon.” Aurane complained and looked with pleading eyes over to Jon who just kept on smirking at him, “You know what I like? The sun, the warmth, the sea.” Aurane listed down and waved a hand lazily around.

“Please,” was Jon's only comeback, just one word spoken by not even a begging voice, his eyes did that all for him and Arthur couldn't even mentally count to two before he saw Aurane caving in like a dry stick in the wind.  
“I hate you.” Aurane grumbled and turned his face into Arthur's shoulder, missing the victorious grin that flickered over his eyes and lips for just a brief moment before he went back to pet Meraxes.

“No, you don't, you love me.” Jon corrected Aurane almost absentmindedly, Arthur chuckled when Aurane groaned into his shoulder, “And you're curious, too, which is why you're gonna say yes.”  
“I haven't even said yes, yet.” Arthur reminded them of his presence but Jon shrugged his bony little shoulders and looked up at him out of lovely violet eyes.

“You basically did when you reminded me to be careful.”

“He's played us again, darling.” Aurane pointed out the obvious and Jon patted them both on the head before getting up and going over to his woodwork again. “Are we really going voluntarily into snow and ice and cold and freezing winds for him?” Aurane whined with his next breath and Arthur wrapped his arms around him.

“Yeah, we are. And we'll probably find us freezing on top of the Wall for him as well.” Arthur painted the picture even more dire for him, Aurane whined louder and Jon smirked down at his carving. “You okay?” Arthur wanted to know more quietly next and turned his head to look down at Aurane, seagreen eyes blinked twice, watching Jon work.

“He's alive, he's out there somewhere and one day he'll come home.” Aurane answered him, intertwining his hand with Arthur's, “And I got another wonderful niece now whom I can tell all about her father. Until Jace comes back home. I'm good, Arthur, I've got my family here with me.” Jon looked up and smiled over to them, bright and happy, and Arthur knew that he was happy, too.

\--

“Is Rae okay?” Jon asked carefully when Torrhen climbed up into their hideout over the stables, he got a nod in turn. It was the day after he had given Rhaena's the white egg and though they had already learned yesterday who Rhaena's father was, Ashara had only this morning taken her children to explain the full story and Jon had in turn learned why his Papa was so mad with his sister, “I really didn't want this to blow up into anyone's face. I just knew that the white egg was meant to be hers.”

“Hey.” Torrhen interrupted him as he sank down onto the blanket next to Jon, knocking their shoulders together, “It's okay. I was younger than Rae when Ma told me about my father. Rae was gonna ask her soon anyway, egg or not.” Fair enough, Jon guessed in the privacy of his mind, though it would never be truly private as long as Torrhen was the one watching him, “It's fine, you know that, right? The only one in a huff is Uncle Arthur and that's certainly not because of the dragon eggs.”

That was true. Jon's Papa and Aurane were both in a mood where it concerned Aunt Ashara, though Jon thought he could understand why. If someone had not told him for many years that his lost brother or friend was alive after all, he might have been very pissed as well.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked instead and looked at Torrhen who entirely stunned blinked back at him before narrowing his eye in obvious confusion.  
“Why would I be mad at you?” Torrhen wanted to know, turning onto his side so he could see Jon better, despite the others knowing this little place was still very much their own and if they needed to get away from the grown ups in a bigger group they preferred the caves down at the beach anyway. Rhaena only ever complained that she couldn't get up the latter in her skirts and Ally and Ana needed too much help to get up.

“Because I didn't give you an egg.” Jon pointed out quietly and Torrhen started laughing, closing his eyes for a moment even in its intensity, Jon patiently waited for him to get it together again.  
“I'm a Stark, and a Dayne, that's not exactly blood calling for a dragon.” Torrhen unnecessarily reminded him, “And the thought of me getting a dragon would put Uncle Andric into his grave, he already worries way too much about my recklessness. I'm very happy with a horse and a sword, thank you very much.”

“Says the boy who still wanted an elephant for his nameday a year ago.” Jon chuckled and laughed when Torrhen fake-punched his arm before sticking out his tongue.  
“Alright,” Torrhen began in the next moment, propping his head up with one hand, “how about you hatch that dragon, become King and get me an elephant, and then we're even.” He casually proposed, lips grinning.

Jon grew still, eyes set upon his hands.

“Hey.” Torrhen nudged him gently, eyes frowning a little, “Did I say something wrong? You okay?”  
“Can we not talk about any thrones for now? I know you mean well, Torre, but...I just don't want to talk about it.” Jon explained, swallowing heavily, Torrhen nudged him again, so he went on a bit after all, “Ever since Uncle Lucerys gave me the 'how not to repeat Summerhall' lecture, I'm just thinking of everything the Targaryens have lost since then. Most of it to their own madness.” Torrhen reached over to squeeze his hands and Jon met his eyes again.

“You're not like them. You didn't grow up in any toxic courts or messed up family dynamics. You have a loving family, you have true friends. You know how to handle Lords and Ladies just as much as you know how to handle merchants and smallfolk.” Torrhen rattled down, frowning now for real, never happy to see Jon concerned about something.  
“Aegon the Fifth spent the greater part of his youth squiring for and traveling with a hedge knight. He was loved by the smallfolk, he knew how to handle Lords and Ladies, too, and he still nearly burned his whole family and court just because he wanted dragons so badly.” Jon held against it and Torrhen sighed.

“You're not like them. I won't let it come to that, and now let's talk about something else.” Torrhen made to change the topic and Jon opened his mouth to protest but Torrhen shook his head, “No, enough about dragons for one day. Winterfell, let's talk about Winterfell and the North. Quick, three places you wanna see.”

“The crypts, the godswood and the Wall.” Jon fired out and grinned up at the wooden beams under the roof, below them a horse nickered.  
“The crypts, the godswood and beyond the Wall.” Torrhen quipped right back and Jon laughed as he turned his head to look at him.  
“Yeah, that is so not gonna happen.” Jon gave word to his opinion, some laughing still bubbling past his lips, and Torrhen scowled at him.

“You don't know that.” Torrhen stubbornly held against him but Jon snorted and swung himself upright, taking off the string from his right wrist and pulling his hair back.  
“Torre, I spent moons working on Pa to let us ride to the Wall, even before Uncle Ned even invited us to Winterfell. Pa and Uncle Benjen are never gonna let you past the Wall, never in a million years. Not even for half a step. And you know just as much as me that your Ma is not gonna come further North than Winterfell, so they'll be the ones responsible.” Torrhen huffed and rolled back onto his back. “And as much as Richard likes to indulge in our plans, especially yours, he also would never go against a direct order from Pa.”

“How do you think it's gonna go with Lady Stark? Mother says I have to be...on my guard around her, that I'll have to look out for Rae.” Torrhen mused and Jon grimaced, they had heard multiple times already that the way their uncle's wife was raised meant she didn't look well upon bastards. And Torrhen was not only a bastard but a bastard gotten upon a woman by Lady Stark's then betrothed.

Talk about awkward.

“Maybe you should ask Damien for some advice on how to handle yourself around noble ladies who might hate you for something you yourself had no control over, after all it were your fathers who sired you on your mothers.” Jon pointed out, hoping to be helpful, Torrhen glanced over to him, “Yeah, I know. Just...I'll be there, I won't let her treat you badly. Nor will I let her look down upon Aunt Ashara, and you know that my Pa and Uncle Benjen or Aunt Allyria won't let it happen either. And we'll all look after Rae. Talk to Aurane actually, I mean he's never let anybody tell him to be nothing less than who he wanted to be.”

“We're gonna have fun, won't we?” Torrhen turned his thoughtful expression into a grinning one again and Jon followed right along. “And we're gonna be there for your Pa and my Ma when they remember the ones they lost.”  
“We will.” Jon agreed to both, he had already worked out secret signs with Aurane to communicate when they thought Jon's Papa needed comfort because Jon knew his Papa would never openly ask for it. “I really can't wait for it.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Torrhen replied as well and then they were both laughing and snickering, right until a very familiar voice called from the ladder opening.

“Come down here, you idiots. I can't get up that ladder in this dress! We need to talk.” Rhaena bellowed up from the stables and then tapped her foot loudly against the stone ground, Jon and Torrhen exchanged a look and then scrambled up to rush and follow Rhaena's wish.

\--

Sitting in the shadow of an old gnarly olive tree, rocking his younger daughter in his arms while his beloved wife chased after his older daughter up on the small hill and the workers kept on builting the roof of their new home, it was truly a dream fulfilled.

Benjen Stark was definitely one of the happiest men in the Seven Kingdoms.

Star Den, named in honor of both of their Houses, would not be something grand, just a decent sized keep for the fourthborn children of Houses Dayne and Stark. A league away from Starfall, it was nestled between hills that gave protection against the violence of sand storms.

A home for a them.

A home where their family would grow, where they would establish a Dornish House Stark.

Together.

A House that one day Alysanne would take over and fill with her own legacy, and her children after her.

It was something that Benjen had never in his wildest dreams imagined for himself, not when Brandon had still been alive and Ben had been nothing but a child allowed to play at being a knight. Not when he had left for Dorne and Starfall and actually pursued the path of knighthood. Not when he had wed Allyria.

But now it was real, their own Keep, ready to be moved in after they returned from the North.

Benjen would not be its Lord, he had set his foot down when Andric had opened up the topic, he would remain Ser Benjen, Captain of the Guard for Starfall. Allyria would be the Lady of Star Den and then Alysanne after her.

It was weird to think of it so, the future, to see how tall Alysanne had already gotten, how even Lyarra was growing so much and would soon be walking when it felt like yesterday still that Benjen was learning how to spin with a sword without decapitating himself while Brandon smiled in pride.

And looking at Torrhen these days... Brandon's son was the exact same age now as Benjen was when he had last seen his oldest brother. And now they would sail for the North in a fortnight, and his nephews would see Winterfell, would see the home that Brandon and Lyanna had loved so much.

And Arthur and Ashara would see it all as well, something that filled Benjen with happiness, because despite never having talked about it with his siblings he knew that Brandon and Lyanna would have wanted nothing more for the people they had loved. Brandon wouldn't have even cared about what kind of scandal he could have caused, he would have invited Ashara to Winterfell regardless on whether or not him surviving King's Landing would have had him marry Catelyn or not.

And Lyanna?

As if someone had ever managed to stop her.

“Papa!”

Benjen looked over to where Alysanne was waving at him, hair bouncing all over the place, wide grin sent his way. She was all Allyria by now, except for the eyes, those had turned all Stark grey.

“I see you!” He called up to her and grinned when Allyria swept Alysanne back into the air, down in his eyes Alysanne's little sister was as unimpressed as she was by everything. Where Alysanne had been a real terror and was still always so full of energy and up and about, never holding still except for Jon and story time, Lyarra had been a real blessing.

Six moons old now, his sweet little starlight had slept through the night for moons already, quiet and so content, loving nothing more than to watch everyone all day long.

He couldn't wait to go North, to go home to Winterfell and introduce one part of his family to the other.

\--

“You still aren't happy about this upcoming visit.” Ned began quietly, running the whetstone down the left side of Ice's blade, next to him Catelyn remained quiet and continued to stare into the water. They had gone through some up and downs in the first years of their marriage, some tense arguments after Ned had denied her the Sept she wanted so much and the Septa for the upbringing of their children.

It just couldn't happen.

Ten years had passed since the Rebellion, more than ten years since his father and brother had died and Ned had suddenly become Lord of Winterfell but still some Northern Lords showed doubt in his capabilities, still they looked with doubt to his Southern wife.

And she had to understand that their children had to be Northern, that they would not marry into any Southern Houses, Ned would not make the mistakes his father had made. The North needed to see that its Warden would act in their best interest, that Robb would be a worthy future Lord of Winterfell, with a Northern bride and Northern allies.

He had made up with Robert again, no more animosity or tension between them since the Ironborn Rebellion but Ned still didn't forget what Robert had said. What Benjen had said.

“You can understand why it is difficult for me, can you not?” Cat began after a moment, “Brandon and I were betrothed and the entire realm only talks about this grand forbidden love between Ashara Dayne and him. About their boy. Talks about how he could best be used as a pawn against you if your heir doesn't turn out as good, even the Northern Lords whisper about it behind my back.” Ned knew she was exaggerating, that the Northern Lords loved Robb, his skill with a sword and his joyful nature.

And becoming Lord of Winterfell was the last thing Torrhen would ever want, Ned was even more sure about that.

“They are family, Cat. Torrhen and Jon have the Stark blood and we will welcome them and their family into our home. We will welcome Benjen's family into our home. And that means Lady Ashara and her children just as much as it means Ser Arthur, Jon and Captain Aurane.” Ned made clear, no room left for arguing, they had done it enough already since Ned had sent the invitation South to Dorne, “And I will not hear any word about bastards anymore.”

Gods, that had been the biggest fight of the last moons. Catelyn's upbringing had never clashed so much with his as when it had come to talking about bastards. The North was nowhere near as tolerant of them as Dorne was, not as accepting and nonjudgemental but bastards were not seen as the stain on one's family as much as the Riverlands did it, as every land where the Faith ruled tightly did.

“Torrhen is half Stark, he is my brother's son and I will not have anyone shunning him for the lack of a marriage that went ahead of his birth. He is a boy of one and ten and Robb and him are friends.” Cat huffed over his words but remained quiet, “He is a wonderful bright and loyal boy and no matter how often you repeat it, his intentions are not with Winterfell. Torrhen will never do anything that brings him away from Jon, and I don't know how many times I will have to repeat myself until you believe me. And Rhaena is one of the sweetest girls you could imagine and instead of telling Sansa to keep her distance, you'd be smarter to tell her to befriend her.”

“And Captain Aurane?” Cat wanted to know, turning her affronted eyes onto him, “How can you welcome him into our walls, with that reputation of his?”  
“What reputation? That he saved the life of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard? Under risk of his own life? That his quick orders and actions caused the Ironborns to be unable to flee? That even before that he took up Stannis' spot in the small council despite the entire court despising him for his blood?” Ned knew he had hit a nerve when Catelyn looked down upon her hands, “He was a great help in the Rebellion, and his reputation over his dalliances with men are none of my interest. He is a good man, he is important to Arthur and Jon, and if my son can learn anything about strategy from him, then I couldn't be prouder. I love you, Cat, you know that,” blue eyes looked back to him, “but this is my family coming to visit, and their family along with it. And I will not have insult brought to them.”

“Lord Stark?”

Ned looked up, Cat following his example, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Jory Cassel hovering at the edge of the clearing across the pond, looking uncharacteristcally nervous and uncomfortable.

“Jory, did something happen?” Ned wanted to know and already set Ice to the side to get to his feet, helping Cat up as well before grabbing his sword, smiling at his wife when she grabbed whetstone and cloth. The captain of Winterfell's household guard shifted on his feet and threw a look over his shoulder, as if the answer could be found in the trees.

“I...you gotta come see this with your own eyes, my Lord.”

“I'll be right behind you, Jory.” Ned assured him and then turned back to his wife as Jory already hurried off, “Just try, please. For me.” Cat nodded and he offered her his arm as they made to see what had Jory so out of sorts.


	3. Part 1 - Going North

“Now, there is enough in here to help you until you reach White Harbor if the weather doesn't work too hard against this journey, and for the way back again.” Oberyn explained and tipped his fingers over the vials in the bag he had given, “The green ones to settle your stomach if you throw up.”

“I will throw up. There is no if.” Jon made clear and quickly glanced up and over Oberyn's shoulder to where his father was trailing after Aurane on the ship, obviously bickering with him if Aurane's eye-rolling was any indication.

 

“You gotta work on your optimism, kid.” Oberyn scolded him and Jon rolled his eyes, looking down at the leather satchel once more, “The blue ones you gotta treat careful and I trust you with these, Jon, only because I know you are smarter than a boy your age should be. This helps against the dizziness and your sealegs but I only want you to take these when you're really not well, I told your Papa about these, I told Aurane about these and you will not take one without talking to them first.”

 

“Yes.” Jon agreed immediately and then poked a vial with a reddish looking liquid, “What's this?”

“That is something for your father, he knows about it. Nothing for you to worry about. Now,” and Oberyn smiled, reaching out to straighten Jon's tunic, “remember what my father told you about the North and you'll be absolutely fine. You're half Stark, you're not gonna freeze your feet off. And have fun.”

 

“I will.” Jon smiled and then after one last hug, he hurried on deck of the Pride of Sea and immediately went below it, wanting to be sitting comfortably when the ship started sailing, despite fully well knowing that within the hour he would probably find himself vomiting over the railing.

 

He was looking so much forward to see Winterfell, to see Robb again and his Uncle Ned, but also his other two cousins, to see the place where his mother had grown up with her brothers. To see and feel snow. To see the Wall, to hopefully meet Maester Aemon.

 

It was a little sad that Edric had to stay behind but Andric couldn't come, not for so long and taking Edric and Eleana with them without their parents would just be mean, there would be other times. When they were older. Jon and Torrhen would show Edric where their family had come from someday in the future.

 

The rest of his family was there, even if there was still some tension between Aunt Ashara, Jon's Papa and Aurane that Jon didn't understand.

 

It was going North.

 

Finally.

 

\--

 

“Do you think we'll get watched in Winterfell? Because I don't want guards.” Torrhen mused out loud, thoughts already weeks ahead in the wide Northern hills surrounding Winterfell, “I mean, we ride around Dorne all the time, perfectly alone and unguarded, even after you turned out to be who you are.” Jon made to elbow him in the side but Torrhen had the easiest time dodging it, what with Jon hanging over the railing of the Pride of the Sea and retching his breakfast into the sea.

 

“I don't know if I won't go crazy if they insist on guards following us now in Winterfell. I am carrying steel, I don't need to be guarded anymore.” Torrhen grumbled and continued to hold back Jon's hair, “You really need to either cut this or let someone braid it back, I can't hold your hair all day long.”

“You just can't stop complaining, can you?” Jon croaked out when he finally seemed to be done, straightening up again when Torrhen let go of his hair, Jon turned around and wiped a cloth over his mouth.

 

“It's not my problem that I hate being watched.” Torrhen argued and Jon scowled at him, “Hey, listen, I'm a Lord's sister's bastard son, you're not exactly gonna get a randsom for me. Robb is a Lord Paramount's heir and you...well, you are who you are.” He looked around and upon noticing that the only men on deck were tired sailors at the far end of the ship and Aurane half sleeping at the wheel, Torrhen went on without losing his merry tone, “You're the rightful King of Westeros, hidden beneath being the son of the Sword of the Morning. Of course boys like Robb and you aremeant to be guarded and watched.”

 

“You're selling yourself way too short.” Jon pointed out grumpily but Torrhen knew to take his mood for what it was, not his true feelings but the consequences of ten minutes of endless vomiting. Jon went over to where drinking water was provided on deck, “You're not nothing, Torrhen. If the Usurper...” Torrhen huffed and knew his face was turning dark by the way Jon stopped before having finished his sentence.

 

“If the Usurper were to legitimize me, he could use me against Uncle Ned. I am perfectly aware, Jon, and I won't let it happen. I am content to be a Sand, it gives me freedom and it has me not being watched all the damn time. I will never become a pawn against my own family.” Torrhen drew the right picture for his cousin and Jon rolled his eyes, they moved to sit down on the boxes that stood more or less directly next to Aurane.

 

“You remember what you told me after we had both learned the whole full truth about my blood? You needled me into riding for Sunspear, you dragged me into the Sept and made me a promise. A promise that is not exactly going to end up with you having no eyes on your back.” Jon made obvious and Torrhen sighed, leaning back to look at the sun still rising over a lightly clouded sky. “And even without all of that. Do you really think you count for less just because you won't be Lord of Winterfell in the future or because there might not be a throne in your future?”

 

“Does that mean you made up your mind?” Torrhen smirked and rolled his head to the side, just in time to meet Jon's deep scowl.

“Don't _change_ the subject. You mean something to a lot of people and none of us want you to get hurt, or kidnapped. And when Ser Richard came along when Tyene and I went to Oldtown a few weeks ago, he kept himself completely in the background. A lot of people really care about you, Torrhen. We really...” And Jon stopped suddenly, lurched up and dashed for the railing again, seconds later the sounds of throwing up could be heard again.

 

“Heartfelt declarations of love are so wonderful when they end in someone throwing up.” Torrhen drawled and prompted Aurane to laugh and turn around so he was leaning back against the wheel and looking over to him, spending a short glance on Jon.

“You know that steel at your hip doesn't mean you are invincible now.” Aurane began and Torrhen rolled his eyes.

 

“Don't you start now as well. I've already got my lectures from enough uncles.” He complained and nevertheless pulled up the short sword he had gotten for his last nameday from his Uncle Andric, careful fingers stroked over the beautiful stitching on the leather that protected the blade. Aurane clicked his tongue and Torrhen reluctantly looked up at him again, meeting serious seagreen eyes.

“I was three years younger than you are now, Torrhen, but I still vividly, way too vividly remember how much blood there was on your uncle after those squires had gotten to him. And you know just as well as I do that Arthur held steel at the age of eight. Take this serious and take Jon's words serious.” Aurane berated him all gently and well meant, Torrhen sighed and nodded, he knew that he had enough people who cared about him, who would worry if he got too reckless.

 

And after all, there was something to fight for now.

 

If Jon could make up his mind.

 

Growing up he had never thought that a white cloak was something to aspire to carry anymore, too many bad things were spoken about the Kingsguard now. And he wouldn't want to serve the Usurper or his family, not over his dead body, never for the man who had killed Jon's sire, who had accepted the murder of Princess Elia and her children like it was nothing.

 

But there was one for whom he would wear white in a heartbeat.

 

For now though, Torrhen sighed and pushed himself back to his feet, he walked over to where Jon was puking into the sea and swept back the mess of black locks.

 

\--

 

Sansa giggled and Robb laughed as the grey pup hid her head in his sister's skirt, tail thumping like a whip against the ground while Sansa rubbed behind her ears. Sitting on his lap, Arya clapped her hands and gave a cheer while one of the multi colored pups knocked a paw rather gently against her knee. Another grey pup, darker than the one favoring his sister, was napping at his side, full body pressed up against Robb's side, this one would be his, he already knew it.

 

Close by, the all black pup, the biggest of the litter was curled protectively around the little white one, the runt as his father had called it, just like when they had found them. He got angry easily, the black one, the big one, always quickest to wake if someone approached and quick to growl if it wasn't someone carrying the Stark blood, he was protective, way more even than the mother.

 

“What do you think will happen with them?” Sansa asked, she was grinning brightly at the pup who was playing with her skirt, “There are more than us.” She explained when Robb had silently raised his eyebrow at her.

“Not if you count cousins.” Robb made his thoughts clear to her, the thoughts he had already had the second his father had given in to his pleading to not have the pups killed, “With Torrhen, Jon, Alysanne and Lyarra, there will be four more.” He gave her the numbers and then quickly pulled Arya back when she wanted to throw herself at her pup.

 

“There will still be three more pups then.” Sansa showed that she had her numbers ready as well and Robb rolled his eyes, secretly, turned away from her, Sansa always said she was a perfect lady but she could be feisty as well, and she could scratch when he upset her.

“Mother and Father still want children, and Uncle Benjen and Aunt Allyria are even younger still. And there are Father and Uncle Benjen to think of, maybe they want a pup of their own.” Robb thought out loud and Sansa giggled, probably about the thought of their Lord Father cuddling with a wriggly little direwolf pup as they did.

 

“I think Father will prefer their momma.” Sansa giggled herself through her answer and they both looked at the back of the box where the big grey direwolf mother was sleeping, probably more than happy that someone else entertained the little ones for a change. It had been a surprise for dead sure when Jory had interrupted Rodrik training Robb because he needed his help for something.

 

Something had turned out to be a giant female direwolf scratching at the gate for Winterfell, pacing around in circles, only to run off towards the Wolfswood again and again when she felt eyes on her. It had been obvious that she had wanted to be followed. Father had organized a riding party, they hadn't know how far to go, Robb had been allowed to go with him, together with Theon and Domeric.

 

The wolf had led them deep into the woods, right towards where another female wolf was lying, clearly dying from the stag antlers in her throat. Father had ordered them to stay back while Rodrik and him had cautiously approached but even the other wolf had kept back, those eyes had understand what needed to happen and Robb had watched with an almost relieved eyes how Ice had ended the terrible suffering of the injured wolf.

 

And then they had seen the pups. Two litters curled up into one. And in the middle an all black pup had stood over the white runt, clumsily snarling at everyone who dared to approach. Only the mother had stopped him with a snap of the teeth in his direction.

 

And now they were all in a box in the kennels and the people were all saying how much of a sign it was. Direwolves for the Starks. Direwolves for the Warden of the North. Robb had heard how Old Nan had quietly mentioned to Father that the gods were blessing him for his decisions regarding the North, and it was also her who had prodded Father to have the dead wolf burned and the ashes set into Uncle Brandon's grave in the crypts.

 

A nip in his hip had Robb snatch back to the present, he mock glared at his pup, he already had a name in mind but Father hadn't given his last final word yet so Robb was waiting with really getting attached. He also knew already who would go mad with joy over seeing the direwolves, which was part of his arguments to convince Father not to have the pups killed.

 

“Are you excited for them? Uncle Benjen, Aunt Allyria and our cousins?” Sansa wanted to know, round blue eyes looking over to him, Robb knew that he had the sole advantage among his siblings of having met their cousins and remember meeting their aunt and uncle.

“Of course I am, and I am sure they are excited to come here as well.” He answered his sister who smiled at him, picking up the female pup, Sansa shifted over to be closer to him.

 

Robb was really excited for this coming visit.

 

“Do you think they'll like me? And Arya and Bran?” Sansa quietly asked him, smiling over the pup wriggling around in her lap but her eyes showed nervousness.

“They'll love you.” Robb tried to quickly take it away, they didn't always get along well but in shared letters with Torrhen, Robb had learned that his cousin felt just the same with his own sister, and they still wanted them to be happy and safe, “All of you. Torrhen and Jon are great and kind. And Rhaena is very sweet.” Robb recalled from his visit years ago, he hadn't met his Uncle Benjen's two daughters before but Alysanne and Lyarra were small and he didn't think they would play a lot with them, let alone show them Winterfell.

“And Ser Arthur, he is a real knight.” Sansa's voice dipped into awe and Robb grinned, knew the stories of course, had heard them all, liked to entertain Arya with them, but Ser Arthur or Uncle Arthur as he had insisted was also a real person for him. “I heard Mother's ladies say so many things.”

 

“Uncle Benjen is a knight as well, and so is Ser Richard Lonmouth, he was even a squire to the last Dragon Prince.” Robb reminded her of their latest shared history lesson from Maester Luwin, he had wanted them to know who was coming. Richard would also be the absolute default person to reach for in a guard when Robb wanted to go exploring with Torrhen and Jon, he would just let them do what they wanted. “And Captain Aurane might be coming, too, Jon couldn't tell for sure yet in his last letter, but wouldn't it be great? He's Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet.”

 

And his ship was the biggest and most beautiful one Robb had ever seen until now.

 

“I don't know what that means...” Sansa confessed in a whisper and her blue eyes blinked at him.

“It means that he leads the fleet for the Crown and the only men he has to answer to are the Master-of-ships and the King himself.” Robb taught her, like he had learned from his father after he had returned from the Greyjoy Rebellion with Theon in tow.

“And why would be come? He's not related to us.” Sansa was a bit puzzled and Robb tried to think of how to best explain, some things just still went over his little sister's head.

 

“He's related to the Daynes and he is bringing them North on his ship. And he's quite important to Ser Arthur and cousin Jon.”

 

Robb had initially begged his father to be allowed to go to White Harbor and meet their family there but his father had denied him his wish, stating that Robb was needed in Winterfell and that it wouldn't be fair to Theon. Robb knew that Theon was a hostage hidden below the title of ward, and though they had become friends and Theon had accompanied Robb on trips with his Lord Father before, Theon would not be allowed to visit the harbor city.

 

Dom, the true ward of Robb's father, not a hostage of war, could come with him but Dom was also a dutiful squire to Ser Rodrik and wouldn't just make some random trip so Robb had accepted to await his cousins in Winterfell. And if he trained twice as hard against Dom and Theon now to impress Ser Arthur, Ser Richard and Uncle Benjen, no one had to know.

 

“Here you are.”

 

Sansa and Robb looked up and over to where Father had spoken, smiling at them from the door of the box that he was opening to get inside. Mother had insisted on it being locked at all times, she was the only one who wasn't so happy about this whole thing, found it too dangerous but Robb had promised her to look after his siblings and to never let them go in there alone. And even she had already seen how loyal the little pups were to her children.

 

“Father, do we know now who will all come North with Jon and Torrhen?” Robb asked as his father closed the door behind himself and then settled down back against it, his hand reaching out to scratch Robb's pup behind the ears.

“Jon and Torrhen will come to us with Ser Arthur, Captain Aurane, Lady Ashara, Torrhen's sister Rhaena and Ser Richard. And your uncle Benjen will bring Aunt Allyria and his little daughters.” Father explained and then picked up Arya when she had stretched out hands for him, in the back the mother wolf stirred but only so much as to look over Father before going back to sleep.

 

“I am so excited.”

 

\--

 

“Okay, I break,” Aurane announced as he walked into the Captain's Cabin and probably found Arthur staring at the letter for the fifth time in the last couple of days on the ship's voyage North, “I stopped counting on how many times I saw you staring at that piece of paper. Who wrote that letter?” He wanted to know and Arthur sighed, gesturing for Aurane to close the door before holding out the letter to him.

 

Jealousy was a sweet song.

 

“It's from Griff.”

 

Aurane's eager hand turned hesitant, lips pulling back into a sneer.

 

“Swallow down the resentment for a moment and take it, it's bad news.” Arthur worked around that hatred that was settled so deep into Aurane's bones that it might just as well never disappear anymore. Arthur had learned how to move on but Griff had also saved all of their necks in Volantis, they had worked together to keep Jon save.

 

“What kind of bad news? What's wrong?” Aurane wanted to know, grabbing the letter with one hand and reaching out with the other, cupping Arthur's face in it, gentle fingers tracing over the darkness under Arthur's eyes, he knew he looked exhausted, he was tired.

“Viserys is dead.” Arthur brought the words passed his lips, Aurane froze on the spot, eyes staring down at him. It hurt, of course it did, Arthur might have never been the greatest supporter of the boy but he had still been Rhaegar's brother, Jon's uncle, Viserys had been kin. “Jon... Griff brought Daenerys to a safe place before anyone else could snatch her. He had finally caught up to them but it was too late to save Viserys.”

 

Aurane's scowl melted into blank shock and he sank down on the bed next to where Arthur was still sitting, unfolding the letter and reading it with now curious eyes.

 

“When did you get this?” Aurane asked when he was finished, letter set to the side and body turned to face Arthur who dragged heavy hands down his face.

“A few days before our departure. I didn't think that anything had happened, just Griff checking on or telling me that he had to leave his position again.” Arthur recalled and then fell back onto his back with a sigh, rolling his head to the side when Aurane carded soft fingers through his hair.

 

“Where was he last?” Aurane kept his questions coming and Arthur was grateful for the chance to talk about it, he had steered in silence over this game changer for days already, spent his share of sleepless nights over it.

“Myr.” He answered, eyes falling close when Aurane moved his hands down to his chest and shoulders, leaning back on the bed as well.

“Gods, this... how contained do you think we can keep this news?” Aurane wondered and Arthur sent a pained look over to him.

 

“Griff writes that he thinks we can keep it secret for now. The people who had taken Viserys and Daenerys in, they died as well.” He replied, didn't keep his doubt about it all hidden though, Aurane bit his lips, thinking silently for a few seconds before continuing.

“The second Varys knows, Corlyn's game in the Crownlands goes boom.” Aurane painted thepicture that Arthur was all too aware of. As much as he kept on insisting on no one making any active steps to influence Jon's decision or let anyone outside the trusted circle know that a trueborn son of Rhaegar's lived, Arthur was very much seeing his little boy's thoughts.

 

Jon knew the truth now, the full bloodied truth now.

 

Where Arthur had previously had hopes to get the 'Usurper' out of Jon's vocabulary, was it now an impossible deed once Jon had learned that this King had called his murdered siblings _dragonspawn_ and smiled over their corpses. Jon's sense of honor and justice was only one small step away from swearing to his surrogate grandfather that he would get vengeance for his dead brother and sister.

 

And Arthur was beginning to get the feeling that that small step was made up of a hatching dragon egg.

 

Hello, headache, welcome back.

 

The boy was ten, he was supposed to remain a kid yet.

 

“I know.” He unnecessarily replied to Aurane's assessment, welcoming the kiss that the other man brushed against his lips.

“Arthur, we'll figure this out.” Aurane promised and Arthur breathed out a long breath, looking up into green eyes that shone with so much more strength and hope since he knew he had another niece and that Jace was out there still, “I might hate Connington for his bitterness, his too sharp words and his resentment for everyone who looked at Rhaegar too long but I also know that he is a smart man. He'll know what he is doing.” Aurane tried to be convincing and Arthur smiled weakly at him, Griff knew indeed what he was doing, keeping not only out of sight of Robert's assassins but also Varys' spies. “Come on, you need some sleep. You're thinking too much again, Connington and Rhaegar's sister are half a world away, we cannot do anything right now. He'll keep her safe, for Rhaegar's sake most of all.”

 

“Will you stay?” Arthur wanted to know, already kicking off shoes and crawling under the furs, it was really getting cold and if he found Benjen's thick smirk of delight set in his direction once more his goodbrother was gonna take a swim. Aurane didn't answer with words, instead he took off his own shoes and then followed him under the covers. “No matter how tall he may grow, no matter how many crowns he will wear and how many thrones he may sit, how many dragons he will hatch, Jon will always be your son. And he'll never stop loving you, or needing you.”

 

“His dreams are scaring me.” Arthur confessed with his head pressed against Aurane's chest and Aurane's arms strong around him. “Prince Daeron lost his wits about them, drowned his fear and his stress over prophetic images over the fate of his family in wine and women. And even Rhaegar didn't have it under control anymore in the end.”

“Which is why we will keep a close eye on Jon. We couldn't help Rhaegar because he wouldn't let us but Jon already talks to you about it, he tells you what frightens him, he talks to Torrhen most of all. He will be okay, Arthur.” Aurane emphasized and pressed another kiss into Arthur's hair, “Unless of course we all freeze to death at the Wall.”

 

Positively wrenched out of the gloomy thoughts, Arthur snorted and buried closer to the warm body at his side.

 

“It's fucking cold.” He agreed from the bottom of his heart, pulling the furs up to his ears, “Forget dying at the Wall, I'll lose toes before we even reach Winterfell.”

“Rhaegar couldn't have picked a girl from the Riverlands, couldn't he? Or directly from Essos? Ihear it's _warm_ over there.” Aurane snickered and Arthur laughed but still slapped a hand against Aurane's arm, “And if Benjen calls us summer boys one more time, you have my full permission to throw him overboard.”

 

“I like it when we think alike.” Arthur grinned and then nudged his nose against Aurane's chin until he looked down at him, “I love you. I'm glad you're here with me.”

“I love you, too.” Aurane told him and then rolled Arthur onto his back, smiling down at him and leaning down, intention clear.

 

A knock on the door had them both groan.

 

“Papa?”

 

“And I love the always interrupting rascal, too.” Aurane sighed and dropped back down onto his back to let Arthur sit up, laughing over Aurane's cute little scowl.

“Come in, Jon.” He called out and pushed a hand through his hair, smiling when the door got pushed open and Jon grimaced when he caught sight of them.

 

Arthur really couldn't wait for girls to become something more than just sweet crushes.

 

What sweet revenge there could be once Jon saw kissing no longer as something gross.

 

“Can we go and watch the stars tonight?” Jon wanted to know, his face was flushed, showing that he had been outside again without a frigging cloak. “I promise I'll leave you two alone until nightfall.” Jon added with such a cheeky tone that Arthur stuck his tongue out at him for.

“We can, if you wear a thick cloak and let me bundle you up in furs.” Arthur got out with his part of the deal and Jon groaned. “We can't all be half Stark.”

 

“Half ice, you mean.” Aurane threw in from beside him and Jon rolled his eyes over both of them before he nodded.

“Fine, thick cloak and furs.” Jon gave in and then grinned again, he was getting more giddy the colder it got, “I'll get you when the sun is down. Go back to kissing.” Jon laughed in the end and took flight from the room when Aurane threw a pillow at him.

 

\--

 

Later, an hour after the sun had set and as most of the ship already laid quiet, Jon reappeared at the cabin door, wearing thick cloak and warm boots, carrying his own furs and grinning brightly when Aurane grumbled as he made his way up to deck.

 

Arthur lingered behind for a moment still, burning Griff's letter on a candle and sending a wish to the stars to keep this secret hidden for now. As he threw on another doublet and then his overcoat and the fur cloak that Allyria and Ashara had made him in the weeks before, he thought of how Lyanna would have laughed herself silly over this.

 

To see him bundled up like an old crone in winter.

 

She would have given everything to see Winterfell again, he knew it, and he was hoping to honor her memory by coming North now. To see the lands she had always spoken so highly of. To see the castle that for her had been the most beautiful place in the world.

 

And well, at least it wasn't a ruin, Arthur thought with a small smile as he left the cabin and made his way up, stepping into the icy night and immediately catching the deadpanning stare of despair on Aurane's face while Jon grinned at both of them.

 

They settled down at the bow of the ship and as Aurane and Jon picked out stars and constellations, arguing over what truly looked like what, Arthur looked at them. Took in how this had been become their normal, how Jon had long since gotten close enough with Aurane to come to him with his fears as well.

 

He looked at this boy who had probably had the childhood that Rhaegar had always wished to have been given, who was free to become whoever he wanted to be. His skills and talents encouraged but never pushed and pushed until they became hated. A happy boy who had developed his sense for justice and fairness without the toxic tongue of a royal court whispering in both ears.

 

A boy who was loved by smallfolk and Dornish nobility alike. A boy who could charme and talk even Doran into agreement, who was stubborn but gentle.

 

And for the first time Arthur let his mind drift to places he had not allowed himself to go to before.

 

To stories Rhaella had told when her ladies had asked for one, to stories she had told to Rhaenys in the cradle, stories she had told Viserys most of all. Stories that Arthur had heard again when Rhaegar had entertained Richard and Myles with them in Summerhall.

 

Stories about a boy who spent most of his youth being raised by a knight as they travelled through the realm. A boy who was a Prince and never really lived like one in the years that shaped him most. A boy who became King Aegon V.

 

A king who despite being a thorn in the eyes of Lords who didn't like his wish for changes was still respected and liked, loved by the smallfolk, who had been said to be a good king after all. Everyone who knew Aegon had always emphasized how good and kind he had been, loud mouthed but never mean, never even close to mad, not until the mess his children had created had made him so desperate for dragons that Summerhall had gone up in flames.

 

And Aegon had visited Winterfell as well, not as a King, not as a Prince but as Egg, as just a boy.

 

Arthur wondered if Ser Duncan the Tall had ever laid awake at night, pondering that the boy who was his squire had suddenly lurched up so many ranks in the succession because of the devastation that the Great Spring Sickness had caused. They had started their journey with Aegon being so far down the line for the throne that no one had bothered but at the time of their visit to Winterfell?

 

Daeron the Second, Baelor, Valarr, Matarys, they had all been dead. Aerys had been King, Rhaegel and his children all but excluded from the succession and Prince Maekar had certainly not looked to Daeron or Aerion to fill the hole that his brother's non existent heirs left open.

 

Had Duncan ever looked up at the stars and wondered what he was going to do if the time came and Egg needed to vanish to let Prince Aegon take his place?

 

Had he thought like Arthur did now?

 

Had he thought like Arthur for the first time in these ten years since Jon's birth let himself think?

 

_If the gods will it, this boy will be the greatest of them all._

 

A hand poking at his ear brought Arthur back to the present and he blinked at Jon's sleepy face, opening his arms to let his little boy cuddle close and under the furs that Arthur had wrapped around himself.

 

“You'll come with me down to the crypts, won't you, Papa?” Jon whispered, already half asleep and Arthur brushed a kiss into his hair, “So we can see her together?”

“Of course, I will, little wolf.” He promised and mirrored the soft smile that Aurane gave him as their intertwined their hands on Jon's back.

 

Arthur would protect his son and his happiness, his strength, his mind, and if Jon made for the throne...well...Arthur's cloak had been white once already, it wouldn't be that difficult to change it again.

 

Not for Jon.

 

\--

 

If she could spent the rest of her life watching the man she loved play with their little daughters, Allyria would certainly be the happiest woman in all the Seven Kingdoms. Her Ben loved their little beautiful girls so much and he could let hours pass just listening to Alys talk and talk and run circles around him while Lya watched in that content silence that according to Arthur Jon had shown as a baby as well.

 

Her wonderful girls, so different but all the same in her heart.

 

Just like now, another day spent on the ship, Allyria had settled on the bed in their cabin, going through the books to once more be sure that everything was settled for their return when they would finally settle into their very own keep. When she would no longer be just Andric's little sister but Lady Stark of Star Den, sworn to Starfall but with her own household.

 

A frightening thought at times but Allyria knew she was more than ready for it.

 

Next to her Ashara was mending one of her daughter's dresses and down on the ground Ben was dangling Lya over his head while Alys laughed and copied him with her dolls. It was so endearing to watch.

 

But Allyria also wanted to talk to her sister so she reluctantly enough dre her eyes away from her husband and daughters, “Have Arthur and you exchanged a conversation yet? About Jace and what happened? I know you talked to Aurane.” Ashara pulled a face in response but didn't look away from her stitches.

“Our brother may be the quietest of us but he is also by far the most stubborn one.” Ashara said after a moment and Allyria saw how Ben stiffled a grin. At the beginning of their friendship all these years ago, Ben had often told her that stubborness had gotten a whole new meaning for him since meeting the Daynes. “And I don't want to push him while we're already on a journey that will bring a lot of emotions along for him.”

 

That was true, Arthur looked tired and Allyria wondered if he didn't get enough sleep because the ghosts of the past kept him awake at night.

 

“Did he say anything about whether he wants to come with you when you ride South instead of returning with us by ship after this visit is over?” Allyria wondered and Ashara looked up in grimacing that time, she knew very well that Ashara wanted to let her children meet Barristan Selmy in the Kingswood village, that she wanted to show them some of the realm's most beautiful places and that Richard had agreed on Andric's insistence to guard them.

“I don't think he would want to. Seeing Harrenhall again, riding by the Trident. He's not ready, Ally.” Ashara told her and Allyria of course understood, hadn't even thought at first over what riding South from Winterfell would mean.

 

“Have you told Torrhen yet that Jon and him will be separated for at least four moons?” Benjen chuckled down on the ground, setting Lya on her feet and holding her hands tight while he showed her how to use those chubby legs.

“I did, he was not impressed.” Ashara deadpanned and Allyria laughed, turning back to her books, “And I wanna take back the reward for most stubborn in the family, my son has even our brother beat by a long shot.”

 

“Are you looking forward for him to see Winterfell?”

 

“I am.” Ashara answered Ben's question and smiled when Alys climbed on the bed next to her, doll as always in her arms, “But I am not looking forward to Lady Catelyn's judgemental stares and snide remarks. My children are not to blame for the decisions their fathers and I made.”

“Torrhen won't let that hit him.” Ben mentioned effortlessly, “He knows who he is, he is proud of who he is. And no one can resist Rhaena's sweetness.”

 

“Let's hope so.”

 

“Hey, how was that woman called again who had something with your brother in their youth?” Allyria smirked when she caught Ben's truly horrified look, “Maybe she turns up and Catelyn and Ashara bond over hating her.”

“Don't even joke about it.” Ben hissed over to her and Allyria stuck her tongue out at him, grinning when her husband shuddered and turned to tickle their youngest.

 

\--

 

“Can you teach me?”

 

Her uncle looked up from where he had been studying a map, green eyes blinked at her before they grinned just as much as his lips suddenly did.

 

“You bet I can, come here, Rae.” Uncle Aurane told her happily and Rhaena skipped over to him, climbing up on a box that he kicked closer to the table where maps had been laid out. Close by the First Mate was controlling the wheel while the crew tended to the sails or watched her brother and Jon sparring while Uncle Arthur, Uncle Benjen and Ser Richard argued over the right advice.

 

Ever since she knew who her father was, Rhaena had wanted to learn about ships, about sailing and the sea, not just because it brought a smile to what was now truly Uncle Aurane's face but also because she wanted to put one on Grandpa Lucerys's one as well. And it certainly was something that her brother didn't know about, that was always a plus.

 

And one day maybe her father could return and Rhaena could impress him with all she knew about ships and this world that was so important to him.

 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” Aurane asked and Rhaena pointed her finger to the maps on the table before tracing over the lines on some of them. She didn't have any memories of the long journey with a ship they had taken years ago from Volantis back home to Dorne, she knew the sailors and captains found their way with help of the sun and stars but she wanted to know how. As her uncle explained then and Rhaena listened, she also found herself hoping that her father would turn up sooner rather than later.

 

She knew Aurane missed him still, and every little story he gave her made her miss him, too.

 

Rhaena knew even more how lucky she was, both her parents were alive still and she had a chance to get to know her father, not like her brother or Jon.

 

“Did I tell you yet about the night where Corlyn and Jace had decided we needed to seek for hidden treasure in the old Velaryon castle in the dark?” Aurane snickered after Rhaena had shivered in the cold wind and he had drawn her under his cloak, she shook her head. “Well, my little princess, your father learned a valuable lesson that night. If you scare your little brother, you can expect him to be sleeping in your bed for the next fortnight.”

 

\--

 

“You know what would be hilarious?” Oberyn chuckled and set the empty cup of wine down onto the table in the corner of his brother's solar. Behind his desk Doran raised an eyebrow and sitting before it Andric turned his head to the side to look at him. “You finding yourself with three newly hatched dragons, a clingy moody lizard four times their size and a dog hellbent on world destruction while the only people truly able to control them are gone.”

 

“Yeah.” Andric deadpanned and sent Oberyn a sharp look, “Just continue making sure you keep those books away from Jon for my brother's and Aurane's combined sanity. And mine own.” He reminded Oberyn of the promise Andric had pulled out from him when Oberyn had visited Starfall after the dragon eggs had arrived from Dragonstone. “And then we won't find ourselves in any situations like that.”

 

“Aren't you late already for Elia's lessons, dear brother?” Doran intercepted before Andric could have really got going with Oberyn, both of them grinned at each other for a moment but Oberyn nodded in response to his brother's words and left to go and fetch his daughter.

“So then.” Elion spoke up a short moment after the door was closed, shifting in his seat by the window alcove, “You have called us both here, and you told me earlier that you would have wished for Lucerys to be here as well. I can't give you him but Andric rushed over here on your call, so what has you so dramatic.”

 

Andric looked from his foster-father back to Doran who stiffled a smile really as he pulled a letter out from under a book, one about Sunspear's accounts, and like that one that Oberyn wouldn't touch unless forced. It only spiked Andric's curiosity that had been on edge ever since Doran had called him to Sunspear.

 

“I received an answer from Lord Tyrion.” Doran got straight to the point and Andric's heart stuttered to a stop as Elion rushed out of his chair and walked over to them with long strides, his eyes alive with a fire that one rarely saw in him nowadays.

“He gave you a deal?” Elion demanded to know in a gasp and Andric looked between them in confusion, standing up to offer Elion his chair as his upbringing dictated him, Elion though didn't even look at it, remaining on his feet.

 

“Hold on here, deal? What are you two talking about? What is the Lord of the Rock giving you an answer for?” Andric wanted to know, looking from Doran's calm face to Elion's eager one.

“A deal on murderers.” Doran explained quietly and Andric felt his breaths stutter in his chest.

“Elia...” he gasped and fell down in his chair, legs having turned to air, “He gave you the Mountain and Lorch?”

“There is where it gets tricky.” Doran slightly disagreed, “Tyrion Lannister is willing to deliver us both knights to even the debt that House Lannister owes House Martell.”

 

“But?”

 

“He wants it to be handled silent, and without any traces being able to lead back to him.” Doran noted down the conditions that Tyrion Lannister must have argued out in his many letters.

“He doesn't want the blood of his own bannermen on his hands so early in his reign over the Westerlands, at least the boy has a head on his neck.” Elion sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, propping his hand up against the chair that Andric was sitting in.

 

“Dorne is not gonna stand in doing this quietly.” Andric commented quite unnecessarily, all three of them knew it, “I can get Arthur to be quiet, I can talk Larra down but none of us will be able to hold Oberyn back. Not this time.” Not again, not when he was so close to his goal and his revenge now.

“That's why I have been thinking that we might connect the Westerlands tighter to Dorne, to add more rope to our side of the deal.” Doran continued in his ever present patience and calm, Andric tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, keeping at it even when Elion nudged him to stop.

 

“What are you thinking of?” Elion wanted to know calmly while Andric could feel a bad sense of doom growing in the pits of his stomach, he wanted a vacation, he wanted a time out.

“Tyrion Lannister needs a wife.” Doran set it down matter of fact and Andric stared at him, “And if we give him a Dornish bride in turn for handling this affair quietly, then the next Warden of the West will be half Dornish.”

 

“Who is gonna give up their daughter to the Westerlands?” Andric snorted in half disgust and half amusement, fully aware that it was a nice plan but no one was going to...

“My brother.” Elion deadpanned with a shocked subtone and Andric looked between him and a still unshakingly blinking Doran shifting papers around.

“You want to send a Gargalen daughter to the Westerlands. One of Eyrin's sisters? One of Elia's cousins?” Andric blurted out when he realized that Doran was dead serious and even Elion suddenly looked like he could see the advantages in it.

 

“It would send a sign.” Doran explained and Andric gaped at him before burying his face in both hands, why did he always have to get wrapped up in this stuff.

“Yeah, a sign.” He grumbled lowly, “A sign that you've both lost your minds.”

“Andric, think about what this could mean for us.” Elion tried it with reason and Andric looked up again, he could already hear the women in his life complaining and protesting.

 

To him, of course.

 

Because they wouldn't question Doran's authority or Elion's decisions.

 

“Anyta is well aware of any plans, Andric, and she is maybe not screaming in joy over it but she knows very well what this means for the future of her children. Her son would be Warden of theWest. That is more than she could wish for as the youngest of four daughters of a Dornish House, considering that the blood ties to the Dornish Royal House are too close. Anyta agreed.”

“Do I have to explain this to Eyrin?” Andric whined when Doran was done explaining the basics, “Because I _really_ don't want to. Neither do I look forward to get this to Larra's ears or my own sisters.”

 

“If Anyta marries Lord Tyrion, it binds the Westerlands not only to the ruling House of Dorne and House Gargalen who hold the majority of the Dornish fleet but also to you, Andric. To House Dayne. To Jon. As much as I hate Jon Arryn, the man at least knew how to connect several Houses by just two marriages. This is how we protect Jon and at the same time get vengeance for Elia and a baseline of support for any future steps Jon might make towards the throne. The North is already bound to Jon's cause. The Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet is loyal to Dorne, Corlyn is rallying the Crownland Houses silently behind supporting a Targaryen rule again. The Islanders want nothing more than to have Dragonstone back in the hands of one of their own, or at least someone with true Valyrian blood. The Riverlands will not turn against the North, not with Lord Hoster's daughter bound in marriage to the Warden. If we take the Westerlands into loyalty to Dorne or at least force them not to act against us, we might actually be able to give Jon an ascension to the throne with barely a drop of blood spilled.”

 

Well, wasn't that a nice dreamlike thought.

 

“Aside from the fact that the two regions we actually have to cross to get to King's Landing are bound to the Usuper's Crown.” Andric noted without really hiding the sarcasm in his voice, watching how Elion walked back to the windows, staring out of them and down into the lively city.

“If the danger comes from all sides, it won't be long until the Tyrells bend again.” Doran said, they both hated Mace Tyrell and they both knew even more that it was sharp old Olenna who held the power in the Reach, “And Renly Baratheon is not Robert or Stannis, and he's young, the boy has just come off age. Robert Baratheon has only two great Commanders and Warriors left in his own Kingsguard, and Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime will not fight against Arthur or Richard or even you or Oberyn.”

 

“The only real force of strong warriors that could become dangerous are the Knights of the Vale.” Andric mused, leaning back in his chair, pawns of the game moving in his mind as he looked back at his old friend.

“And Jon Arryn will find himself no doubt torn between his foster-sons.” Doran read his thoughts quite easily still and Andric grimaced then.

“Ned Stark will find himself torn between his foster-brother and his nephew.” He reminded everyone of that difficult part of the whole coup they were again and again running through their minds.

 

“He doesn't have to fight,” Elion surprised them both a little by speaking up again, still watching the city, “for all that I care the North can hole themselves up above the Neck and stay neutral, as long as he doesn't go against his own blood.”

 

\--

 

“How is that boy doing that Tyene and Jon brought back from Oldtown?” Elion wanted to know as Andric and him walked down the corridor outside of Doran's solar, Andric smiled.

“He's a good lad, smart and very quick to learn new things. Taught himself to read and write with the help of the boys already. Eyrin found him a place in the household.” He explained, it had been a true surprise indeed when Jon had returned from his very first trip with only Richard and Tyene along and had not only brought back a dozen stories but also a boy a bit older than him whom they had saved from a brothel. Of all things.

 

Andric had expected mountains of books. Arthur had joked that their uncle might have been corrupted into Jon's charme and half forced into abandoning the Sept in Oldtown. Benjen had guessed that Jon might kidnap himself a Maester.

 

No one had surely expected a new smart quick witted friend. A smallfolk boy raised in a brothel and then forced to join in order to survive.

 

“It's almost something you'd expect to read in those tales about Duncan and Egg.” Elion laughed in good humor and Andric shook his head with a grin, Lucerys had nearly said the same thing. “He's gonna be the smallfolk's hero before he even turns off age. What was the saved boy's name again?”

 

“Satin. His name is Satin.”

 

\--

 

It was a shoving of elbows and hips, sailors jumping to the side below deck and one the stairs as the two dark haired storms of nature raced along the narrow corridors, no cloaks and tunics just barely closed.

 

But neither of them cared as they crashed onto deck and only barely avoided stumbling over each other, landing on hands and knees before helping each other up.

 

And then Torrhen Sand and Jon Dayne stared up at the grey sky, mouths agape and eyes wide as plates as the white flakes settled in their hair and the dark fabric of their tunics.

 

There was no thought left over unsettled stomachs or weird dreams, no worries left over being unwelcomed or nervousness over expectations.

 

There was only snow.

 

Coming up the stairs way more slowly than both boys had, Benjen Stark grinned and leaned against some barrels, watching how his nephews stretched out hands as if in trance. Catching snowflakes on warm skin, watching them fall from the skies in a thick white curtain. On his hip, Lyarra was squealing, pudgy little hands trying to catch a snowflake of her own.

 

Rhaena and Alysanne rushed by him then, they at least dressed in winter cloaks, loudly giggling as they stumbled over to Torrhen and Jon.

 

Up on the bridge, Benjen could see Aurane smiling while Arthur had his own head craned back to feel the snow on his face, the wonder clear to see in him as well.

“Well, someone is in heaven.” Ashara noted quietly as Allyria and her came to stand with Benjen, both of them smiling brightly at the children. Torrhen had grabbed his sister's hand and was spinning her around, both of them laughing happily, Jon didn't dare really to try his luck with spinning in dizzying circles and instead pulled Alysanne close and showed her how to stick out her tongue to catch the snow.

 

“Blood of the First Men.” Benjen said and looked down at his wife and his good-sister, “Welcome to the North, Ashara.” He was about to say more but was rudely interrupted when a snowball hit him square in the face. Benjen whipped his head around, even when Allyria and Ashara started laughing, and narrowed his eyes at Richard smirking at him. “Oh, you're gonna regret that, Lonmouth.” Benjen muttered, handed his younger daughter over to his wife and then dove to grab some snow and made chase for Richard.

 

Soon enough the children were demanding to be shown to how form snowballs and the real battle began. And Benjen got the good feeling that though he might never beat Arthur with a sword, with snow the Sword of the Morning couldn't deal at all.

 

Welcome to the North indeed.

 


	4. Part 1 - Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,  
> It's an update.   
> For those of you still reading, I want to say thank you for sticking around. Life has been sucking for the last six months and it continues to suck. And writing has not been at the top of my list at all in recent time, there has been too much heartbreak and loss to even consider sitting down and building some sentences together. Losing an almost finished chapter to a stupid computer glitch didn't help either.  
> I cannot say if this will turn into regular updates now, I wish I could but I can't and if that means I will be getting more mean comments, then so be it, my own personal well-being is more important to me than some more nice comments.  
> There is simple rule where it concerns fanfiction: you don't like something, so turn around and find something else. No one is forcing anyone to read something.
> 
> For those of you who understand and who still love this series, please do check out "Come Back. I Will." because there is now amazing artwork included, the art was made by the incredibly talented Chachamaru-sama.
> 
> I'm not perfectly happy with this chapter, I'm really not because I liked what I had originally done and as much as I tried I couldn't replicate it but I still hope it'll be a good start to their time in Winterfell. There will be some important things happening that will also have future repercussions for a lot of characters.

Robb peered into the distance of the Southern plains beyond Winterfell's battlements, he wasn't really supposed to be up on the thick wall, simply staring off into the distance but Ser Rodrik had sent him away with a grin when Robb just hadn't been able to concentrate.

His cousins were coming.

Torrhen and Jon, his friends and maybe Edric wasn't able to come along but Torrhen and Jon were coming and he would be able to show them his home. Rhaena could play with Sansa and neither of them would annoy them in their adventures. 

Uncle Ben and Aunt Allyria were coming, and Robb would see his little cousins, too. Alysanne wouldn't be a baby anymore, only a bit older than Arya, they could toddle around together. And he would meet little Lyarra for the first time, she could wail along with Bran, because so far that was all his little brother seemed to be capable off.

“Any sign yet?” Sansa's little voice carried over to him and Robb glanced to his right, watching his little sister approach through the light snow on the ground, her skirts held up until she reached his side. Sansa went up on her tiptoes to catch sight of something beyond the battlement wall.  
“No, nothing yet but the weather is so nice that we'll see them approach from far away.” Robb explained and looked around them, “Aren't you supposed to be in lessons with Lady Rowan?”

Robb was so glad he didn't have to take any lessons with his mother's handmaiden, she was quite a strict one and she always looked unhappy. Robb had Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik and his father, that was more than enough. Domeric and Theon fully agreed.  
“She needs to help Mama with the last preparations.” Sansa explained and jumped up to look over the wall, “I can't see.” She pouted and turned round blue eyes on Robb, he rolled his in turn and jogged off to fetch one of the stools the guards sometimes used during their watch in the night.

He brought it back to the spot he had claimed for his vigil over their family's arrival and then helped his sister upon it, holding her hand until she was standing securely and even then keeping close enough that his shoulder touched her leg. They watched in silence then, there wasn't really much they had in common. Sansa liked quiet play with her dolls and Jeyne, Robb liked learning to fight and riding through the mud with Dom and Theon.

Now Arya, his second sister seemed to be even less interested in dolls than Robb had ever been, and she was not even four.

But they were both excited now for the visit they were awaiting and Robb hoped that Sansa would like Rhaena like he liked doing stuff with Torrhen and Jon. He didn't know why his mother hadn't looked so happy about this idea of him when Robb had proposed it to his father during dinner a few weeks back, but his father had certainly looked happy with it...and maybe that was more important than what his mother was thinking.

“Robb, what is that?” Sansa pulled him from his thoughts and Robb looked to where she was pointing, one of the roads that led to Winterfell from the South. Robb narrowed his eyes against the light of the sun and then he grinned, easily catching sight of purple against the white summer snow.  
“That's them. They're coming.” He cried out happily and quickly helped Sansa down from the stool, grabbing her hand when she was on her feet again, “Come on, we gotta find Father.”

\--

“Woah!”

Torrhen's cry had Jon look away from the snow covered trees and up ahead of their procession where behind a small hill in the road, a grand castle built itself up and he didn't need to ask anyone, he just knew.

“Winterfell.” He whispered in complete and utter awe and Torrhen was dead silent on his horse next to him, his eyes wide and set upon the castle his father and Jon's mother had grown up in. “We're here. We're really here, Torre.” Jon said and then looked behind himself, over to where his father didn't look any less mesmerized by the sight before them and Uncle Benjen looked just so happy.

“Uncle?” Torrhen called out when he had found his voice again, twisting his upper body around so he could look over to Uncle Benjen, “Can we race to the gates?” If possible, Jon would call it tearing up, that came closest to Uncle Benjen's reaction before he glanced over to Jon's Papa who only smiled and nodded for him to indulge the boys' idea.  
“Alright, boys, try to keep up.” Uncle Benjen joked and Torrhen and Jon shared a smirk, knew very well that outriding their uncle in the desert hills was already child's play for them.

“How about you keep up?” Torrhen chuckled and then urged his horse on, Jon shot off after him, laughing into the wind when he heard his uncle's complaint over no reaction time. He chased after Torrhen, their horses kicking up the snow, the ice cold wind hitting his face and it was so exhilarating, Winterfell's walls coming closer and closer.

And then as he took the risk and let his horse jump over the fallen over tree instead of taking a curve around it like Torrhen did, Jon was sure that not ever having met or so, he had never felt as close to his mother as he did then. It was like he had never done anything else but ride over the plains surrounding Winterfell, as if he already knew these lands, knew its faults and its traps as he made another jump over a small stream and heard Torrhen curse behind him because it gave Jon another push forward against him.

He was grinning as the walls of the great keep threw their shadows over him and he only slightly slowed his horse down, his eyes hungrily taking in the direwolf pennants. The guards at the grand entrance gate had already moved to the side, smiling even when Jon rode past them, Torrhen and Uncle Benjen right behind him as they stopped their horses in the middle of the courtyard.

When Jon looked up and over to the assembled household that was to greet them, he found Uncle Ned's eyes wide and stunned while he stared at them. For a long moment Jon saw him too frozen to even move but then Uncle Ned smiled all bright and happy, stepping away from his lined up family to go over to them. 

Stable boys had rushed out to take their horses and Jon swung himself down just like Uncle Benjen and Torrhen did, he let Uncle Ned greet them first and instead looked around the courtyard, around this place that his mother had grown up in. It was so wonderful and beautiful, so very different from the Dornish Keeps and Castles that he knew, and so much bigger than most of them, too. He caught Robb's eyes from where his cousin was still standing next to his mother and they grinned at each other, letters just weren't the same.

“And look at you!”

Jon turned right to grin up at Uncle Ned and then more than gladly accepted the hug he was given, the last time they had seen each other, he had still been very much confused over why Lord Stark had wanted to be called Uncle Ned, the truth about his mother had only come later. So Jon made that hug count.

\--

As his horse came to a halt in the crowded courtyard of Winterfell, Arthur closed his eyes and took a brief moment to breathe around this lump that had built itself up since seeing Jon fly off on his horse towards the keep.

What would Lyanna had given to see this? To see her son ride as wild around the lands she had grown up on?

When he opened his eyes again to dismount, Jon was already greeting Lady Catelyn, charme rolled up to the skies while Torrhen was already down the line, introducing himself to Sansa Stark. Arthur shook Ser Rodrik's hand as the man came to lead his horse off to the waiting stableboys and then walked over to the wheelhouse where his sisters had just stepped out of, Allyria looking a great amount more relaxed than Ashara did.

“How does it go again?” She was muttering towards Aurane who had helped her down and was in the process of picking Rhaena up to set her down on the ground, “The dignified walk to your execution?” Aurane snorted but kept from answering that when he caught Arthur's eyes, instead he leaned back into the wheelhouse and swung Alys out of it before handing Lyarra over to her mother, despite how much the toddler was protesting, little feet had learned to walk on the ship voyage.

The last one out was Vhagar who chose to jump, sniffing around before choosing to bury her little head in Rhaena's skirts, someone else didn't like the cold then either.

“Already frozen to death?” Ned joked as he came to greet them and Arthur grimaced, pulling his cloak tighter before shaking the offered hand.  
“I have to admit, this is actually worse than anything Lya ever described to me.” He admitted and Ned laughed, patting his shoulder before greeting Aurane, Ashara, Allyria and the children. Arthur took his chance and crossed over to the other Starks, passing by Benjen who was deep in conversation with friends from childhood.

Jon and Torrhen were shaking the hands of what had to be Theon Greyjoy and Domeric Bolton, Robb making introductions between them while the younger daughter of Ned's was staring up at Jon and Torrhen with wide eyes full of awe.

“My Lady Stark, it is an honor to finally get to meet you.”

\--

Her son sent her a look when Ashara made to approach Lady Catelyn who was talking with Allyria, and it was quite the sign when it was her wild wolf of a son who reminded her of proper behavior while he was talking with his cousin and Robb's friends, Jon had crouched down in front of the littler Stark daughter, intently listening to whatever was being told, just like she knew it of him.

Arthur and Aurane were watching her approach Lady Catelyn as well, her brother's eyes holding a warning, Aurane looked simply amused while he talked to Ned. Stuck to her side, wide eyes looking around and dog at her heel, Rhaena was watching little Sansa and was watched in turn.

She could do this.

She had survived wars, a Mad King and way more backstabbing ladies than she could count at court.

“Lady Stark, “ She greeted with a voice that she congratulated herself on, though her heart was racing in her chest, Catelyn Stark eyed her with cold eyes and still inclined her head after a moment.  
“Lady Ashara, I welcome you in my home.” She answered and yes, those words had been chosen for all its intents and purposes. “This is my oldest daughter Sansa.” Catelyn set a hand to her daughter's shoulders, little Sansa curtsied and smiled.

She was a beautiful one, flaming red hair and crystal blue eyes.

Rhaena, either shyness forgotten or wanting to spare her mother another awkward second, stepped forward on her own and curtsied to Lady Stark.

“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Stark,” She said and Ashara could see that though hesitant it was difficult for Lady Stark to resist her daughter's sweetness, Rhaena had a pure natural gift in winning people over. That she didn't have from Ashara, when she looked at her family the only one who showed that skill was her brother but Arthur did it with silence and smiles, the charme offensive was a pure Velaryon trait.

Aurane could sweettalk his way into everything and more importantly out of everything, and Jace had been even worse.

In another ice-breaking move, Vhagar couldn't wait to be presented and reappeared from behind Rhaena's skirts, making that cute little head dip that Rhaena and Jon had spent moons teaching her.

“Oh,” Sansa Stark made, “That's a really pretty dog. May I pet him?” Rhaena nodded enthusiastically and both girls crouched down, at least they got along.

\--

As it turned out, someone just couldn't wait to be introduced.

A yelp echoed over the courtyard just a brief moment before Torrhen was taken down by a ball of black, he called out in alarm but then his eyes settled for good on what had ran him off his feet there. Violet eyes widened and stared into nearly black ones for a long moment where the pup was standing on Torrhen's chest, all four clumsy paws neatly planted on him, but then a tongue lolled out of the pup's mouth and Torrhen squeaked.

His arms snapped up and around the pup, squishing the poor thing to his chest while the rest of the family stared.

“That nails down that then.” Robb broke through the echoing silence and turned to look up to his father, “Can we keep them now?”

“There are more?”

“Can we see them?”

It took a moment to settle in that it had been Jon with the casual if curious observation of Robb's words posed as a question and Benjen with the excited demand but once it had, Arthur very briefly closed his eyes before he looked back at his nephew. Torrhen had pressed his face into black fur and was kicking his feet in glee when a tongue slobbered at his ear, judging by the way Rhaena gaped at him, his sister was not enthused by the image, her little dog long had already buried himself beneath her skirts.

Because that was no wolf.

Arthur had no deeper knowledge of animals but he had read that book on Nothern animals often enough to Jon and Torrhen when they had been younger to recognize a direwolf when he saw one.

That black pup on his nephew's chest was a direwolf.

The world was going mad.

And then Jon gasped loudly and driven by instinct, Arthur whirled around, only to freeze upon spotting what his son was seeing as well. At his side, Aurane grew still, too, whereas Richard cursed under his breath and took some steps back. 

“Is this the moment where I make a weak argument against pets on my ship?” Aurane breathlessly whispered upon the sight of the grey and white direwolf walking calmly towards them while a tumbling group of pups stumbled all around her.  
“Aw, is the blood of dragons afraid of wolves?” Benjen cooed in clear amusement and Arthur bit his lips to keep from laughing when Aurane didn't even turn to glare at Benjen.  
“The dragon is not, the seahorse is.” Aurane deadpanned, “Gods, I've never seen an animal that big on land that wasn't a horse.”

“The elephants were bigger.” Torrhen supplied from down on the ground where he was grinning like a fool at the black pup who was still trying to crawl into his clothes. Arthur though was more interested in how Jon suddenly crouched down as well and held out a hand as the smallest pup, a tiny all white thing with nearly glowing red eyes, broke away from mother and siblings and made clumsy steps over to where Jon was smiling.

“Oh, of course.” Aurane muttered and Arthur elbowed him, until both of them tensed like a bowstring when the grown direwolf brushed by them on her way to Ned Stark's side.  
“For all it's worth, I'm not enthused by this either.” Lady Catelyn said quietly and Arthur offered her a weak smile, he knew that feeling well whenever he looked at a certain violet dragon egg. But at least that one might still never hatch.

This here was real.

Benjen knelt down with his daughters right there in the snowy courtyard as well, Alys and Lya both stretching out eager hands when puppies rolled their way, Allyria was blinking in pure stupor. Rhaena had chosen to hide herself behind Ashara's legs who in turn was smiling over her son and his new friend with tears in her eyes, behind Rhaena Vhagar had made herself really small. All four Stark children had plopped down on the ground, too.

All four cuddling a pup, even little Bran.

“Papa?”

Oh, all Seven Hells combined.

“Your uncle is gonna drop dead.” Arthur used as a first instinct excuse and fully ignored his brother's voice in his head that was snarling at him to grow a backbone and stop using him as a way to win arguments against his son.  
“Smooth.” Aurane muttered but his eyes weren't melting any less when red eyes glanced over to them as Jon stood up, white fussy pup cradled securely in his arms, “Jon, how is Mexes gonna take that?” Aurane tried his own hand at reasoning over a lost cause.

Arthur had played this game before.

With exactly the creature Aurane had just mentioned.

Jon had been two back then, just as stubborn but also way less able to argue one into the ground, and still Arthur had not had a chance to say no. How was he gonna say no to a direwolf pup now?

Especially with knowing that Lyanna would come back and haunt him to the edge of the known world if he dared.

“She'll love him.” Jon insisted in response to Aurane's question, cuddling the puppy and coming to stand right in front of them, Arthur couldn't decide if violet eyes or red ones were more begging.  
“For dinner maybe.” Aurane mumbled under his breath and Arthur elbowed him again, Aurane sent him a look and then he sighed, throwing up his hands, “Fine. But no pups are running wild on my ship. The same rules that apply to Vhagar are applying to all pups as well.” And green eyes sent a pointed look over to Benjen and Torrhen as well.

“Pa?”

'Did your dreams ever see direwolves as well, Regg? And you just didn't tell me because you wanted a really good laugh for a change?'

Arthur went down on one knee in front of his beaming son and stretched out a hand for the white pup to sniff at, his reward was a tongue slobbering over his fingertips. Red eyes watched him, looking so intelligent for a furry creature. Turning his hand to stroke the pup behind his ears, Arthur raised his eyes to meet his son's.

“I'm not writing the letter to Uncle Andric.”

Jon grinned and shifted the pup until he could hug Arthur with one arm, lips pulling into a smirk when he drew back again, “Torre can do that.”  
“Hey,” came the instant complaint from behind him, “Why do I have to do that?” Torrhen demanded to know, he had carried the black pup over to Robb and was trying to pull his boot free from small jaws, his new friend was growling but also waggling his tail.

“Because if you don't succeed, I will tell Princess Arianne who put the unripe berries into the Darkstar's food.” Jon explained without even looking at his cousin, Arthur though saw how Torrhen went pale and grimaced, Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.  
“He seriously deserved it. And how do you even know that again, Jon? You weren't even in the Water Gardens that day.” Torrhen argued and Arthur laughed upon the eyeroll that Jon gave that question before he slowly turned around to face Torrhen and an amused Robb.

“I have my informants, Torre.”

“Tyene tattled, you mean. Or Elia.” Torrhen grumbled but then huffed, loud and overdramatic as he could be, “Fine, I'll write it.”  
“I'll help you,” Robb supplied from his side, roughhousing with a grey and white puppy who was pulling on his sleeve, “I already got Father to agree for us to keep our pups.” The heir of Winterfell proudly declared and Arthur glanced over to Ned who looked a little tired at the side of the mother wolf, no doubt having been worked by his children for days.

“Robb, see to it that the wolves get set back into the box. It is late, you can introduce them properly tomorrow.” Ned set an end to the whole agenda and with a gentle push sent the wolf at his side walking, a quip of the mother had the pups bumbling back over to her, except for the black pup still sitting all stubborn at Torrhen's side.

Of course.

Always the rebel.

A growl of the mother and a nudge of Torrhen's foot had the biggest of the pups set in motion and Arthur didn't miss how Ned and Benjen exchanged a knowing look.

\--

“A warm first hours, don't you think?” Ned greeted her with as he joined her in their bedroom that evening after having staid down in the hall with his brother a little longer, Catelyn had been glad he would take that chance, knew he missed Benjen.

And she begrudgingly had to admit that it had been warm first hours and a pleasant family dinner. Benjen and Allyria she knew, their daughters were wonderful little girls. Ser Arthur was as kind and perfectly mannered as his reputation had foretold, Lyanna's Jon was a smart boy with good manners, Captain Aurane was either holding himself back or could behave in truth.

And Lady Ashara had for the most parts avoided her, focused on her children, her little shy daughter who seemed sweet, and Brandon's boy who looked so much like his father that it hurt, his laugh, his look, the way he held himself, the way he could command the room with just a few words and grins.

“Indeed it were.” Catelyn agreed with him and smiled when Ned got to bed, rolling onto his side so he could look at her, “Jon looks so much like her. And Torrhen...”  
“I know,” Ned said quietly, reaching out to stroke a strand of hair out of her face, “They are two remarkable boys and I very much hope that Robb will built a strong friendship with them for the future.”

A strong one indeed, Catelyn mused when Ned rolled over again to diminish the candles and then get comfortable for sleep. Robert Baratheon had no heirs but for his brothers, and no one wanted stoic Stannis on the throne or naïve Renly who had just come off age. If something happened to the King, the Seven Kingdoms would be left scrambling for someone to fill the void, and Catelyn wondered if Dorne was waiting for that chance.

It would do good to have her son belong to the potential future King's circle of confidantes. 

She understood her husband's wish to have his children and their marriages strengthen the North, as much as Catelyn wished to have Southern ties. Alys Karstark was a wonderful young girl and with her coming to be fostered in Winterfell now, Catelyn could still set her own hand upon the girl's upbringing. And Domeric Bolton was a courtageous perfectly mannered boy who had spent enough time in the Vale to learn the ways of Southerners, despite his rough father he would treat Sansa well.

Had Robert's firstborn lived, Catelyn might have dreamed about the Crown Prince for her beautiful daughter but with Dorne's plotting the future King might just as well be Jon who would have to marry someone to strengthen political ties and not his own cousin.

She would only have to make sure that no one took the North away from her children. 

\--

“I want you to go alone first.” Jon told Arthur with a big smile on the first morning after their arrival in Winterfell, struggling into a pair of winter boots with endearing frustration when it didn't go fast enough and Arthur had to step in to help. “She was...is my mother,” Jon went on while Arthur pulled on strings to get his son's feet into these furry contraptions,”but she was your friend and you loved her. Still love her so very much. I know that you don't want me to see you cry but maybe you should. Uncle told me it could help.”

“Which Uncle told you to let me cry?” Arthur wanted to know with a perplexed heart and followed Jon's sly subtle look to the side where Aurane was very much pretending to not be hearing them while he was buttoning up his tunic.  
“But Elion said so as well.” Jon jumped to Aurane's defense while Arthur was still staring at his better half with a lump forming in his throat, “He told me to not be worried if you were sad, that it hurts sometimes still, even years later, when you lose someone you loved so much.”

Arthur swallowed heavily and then tossled Jon's hair, thanking him with a hug before sending him on his way, he wasn't expecting to see him back until the family dinner that night. The opening door revealed Torrhen's and Robb's excited voices for a moment before it fell shut again after Jon had left. Arthur though remained kneeling on the ground for a moment longer.

“So you two talk about me.”

“That is not a secret.” Aurane replied and held out a hand, pulling Arthur back to his feet once he had grabbed it, “Jon's been worried a little before we set off. Worried about how you might take it to come here, be confronted with memories of what Lady Lyanna told you in stories about Winterfell. I told Jon that if we both have an eye on you and make sure you wouldn't fall into any spells, you'll be perfectly alright.” Aurane explained and brushed a kiss against Arthur's lips, “And I intend to shoulder that duty on my shoulders because Jon deserves to not worry about a thing here. Except for not falling into any icy holes in this freezing hell and keeping from getting eaten by that terrible giant wolf that Ned Stark named after his grandmother.” Aurane muttered in the end and stole a quick glance out of the window of the room they had been given.

“I love you,” Arthur felt compelled to point out then as Aurane turned back to face him, he felt touched by this amount of worry when in truth he felt so very much elated that he could now see all these places that he had only ever heard of in stories before. And though she was not with them anymore, it still somehow felt like Lyanna was there now. “I love you so much and I don't ever want you to doubt how much.”

“I love you, too.” Aurane said and kissed him again, “And now go. Ned offered over breakfast, so find him and see her. Find me after, let's see how many toes I will have lost until then.”  
“What are you gonna do?” Arthur wanted to know, grabbing the fur cloak Ned had handed to him, blissfully ignoring that this had been Brandon Stark's once upon a time. Aurane slipped on his own cloak and sent him a sly little smile that had Arthur cock an eyebrow.

“Nothing worrisome. Talk to Lord Manderly or his sons. Corlyn would probably throw me off the cliffs of Driftmark if I came back without making good with another coastline seat for House Velaryon.” Aurane proposed and together they stepped into the corridor, “Or grab me the little Kraken boy and see if he even remembers how to read a ship map.”  
“Don't frighten the kid, he isn't at fault for what his family has done. And I find it terrible to hold a child ransom to assure a father's loyalty.” Arthur mumbled angrily, as much as he was convinced that Ned treated the boy fairly, it was still disgusting what the crown was doing, a child was not responsible for a father's deeds, “Everyone saw how good that tactic worked out between Aerys and Tywin.”

“And what does your inner Rhaegar say about an alliance between Houses Velaryon ad Greyjoy?” Aurane asked as they stepped out of the guest wing of Winterfell and out into the late morning air, where both of them stopped and grimaced intensively. “This is so not my thing.” Aurane cursed quietly and blinked up at the snow falling faintly.  
“An alliance like that has never been done.” Arthur answered the question and looked out over the courtyard where he saw Jon, Torrhen, Robb and the Bolton boy vanish into the stables.

“There has never been an alliance between anyone and the Greyjoys, but now there is the heir to Pyke growing up in Winterfell. Maybe it's time we spin a net there, too.” Aurane pointed out and grinned when Rhaena waved up at them where she was following little Sansa into the glasshouse.  
“Just don't get into trouble.” Arthur told him and laughed when he walked passed Aurane and got a slap to his thigh for the cheeky remark.

Ned was easy to find and they made their way down to the crypts, a place that set Arthur's teeth on edge just a few steps in and he tensed so much that his shoulders began to hurt. Just before he was ready to ask Ned to turn around, it was almost like a warm breeze that wrapped him in some layer of comfort and this suffocating feeling disappeared again.

They didn't walk as long as Arthur had upon first look feared they would have to, soon enough, maybe even too quickly Ned illuminated a stone figure that stood out among the tall broad shouldered Stark men.

“I'll give you a moment.” Ned whispered and set the torch onto a hook on the wall before in fact giving Arthur some privacy. He closed his eyes, swallowed but none of it stopped some tears from falling, even when he was smiling, a hand reaching out to touch the face made in Lyanna's likeliness.

“Now, you're as strong on the outside as you've always been on the inside.” He began, voice breaking only little, “I miss you so much, Lya.”

\--

“I found someone,” Arthur told this so still statue of a person who had never been still when he found the courage some time later, biting down on his lip for a second before going on, “You would like him. The stars only know what the two of you could have wrecked in havoc, I don't think the whole of Westeros would be ready for it but he's good with Jon. So good. And I love him, I really do.”

He brushed a few drops of tears from his cheeks.

“Aurane is a great man, and I can be with him, can be together with him. At home and in Dorne anyway. He made me realize that not all people leave, sometimes they do come back for you.” He smiled, “I'm happy, I never thought I would get there but I am truly happy. And wherever the future will take Jon, I know that we'll get through it if we face it together, with our family and our friends.” He set a gentle hand upon Lyanna's stony cheek, “Wherever you are now, I know you found Regg, so take care of each other. I got some amazing people now who take care of me. And I'll keep looking after our boy.”

When steps sounded in the corridor, Arthur wiped a hand over his face again and then tensed when something furry brushed against his side. He looked down and found golden eyes looking back at him in the light of the torch, the mother wolf had sat back on her haunches and leaned her head against his hip, as if she wanted to give comfort.

“You have a way to gain the trust of she-wolves.” Ned spoke up quietly and Arthur gave a wet laugh, surprising himself when he set a hand upon the direwolf's head to scratch her behind the ears.  
“Lya made it easy to trust her.” Arthur responded and looked back at the too still statue, “She treated Rhaegar like a man, not like a beloved Prince, not like the future King. She saw him for who he was. She saw me for who I was, and that I can tell you, it didn't happen often. She knew what to say, how to keep these dark moments away from both our heads. A part of me will miss her forever.”

“Yes, that goes for me as well but I also know that she would roll her eyes and complain about us looking too much into the past. Lyanna loved life and always looked ahead.” Ned recalled easily and Arthur nodded, he remembered how Lyanna had insisted that life was still worth living after one terrible news after the other had reached the tower, he hadn't noticed until the end that she meant everyone but herself. “And she would be proud of the children. She would fill their heads with all kinds of terrible ideas to prank their parents but she would love them so much. I still think she deserved to live but she had made a choice and I need to respect my siblings' wishes...And for all it's worth to come from me, Arthur...” He turned around to face Ned, “Rhaegar didn't deserve to die either. Least of all did he deserve to drown in the Trident.”

“The past is the past. We have to look into the future.”

\--

Robb looked at them both as if they had either lost their minds or were too exotic to comprehend, though Jon was quite sure that he had asked his question in the Common Tongue and not any of the other languages he could speak.

“Um,” Robb began and looked around them, they had pulled him into the deepest corner of the godswood, seemingly nothing else around them than trees and bushes, and three bumbling direwolf pups. “I think we're alone here...but if you want something more secrecy we can try the old broken tower. What is going on, guys?” Jon looked over to Torrhen who had leaned back against a nearby tree, Torrhen nodded and Jon took a deep breath.

“Robb, what I tell you now it cannot leave this place. You cannot tell anybody, and talk about it only with a few. It needs to be a secret because if the wrong people hear about it, many people will get hurt and I will die.” Jon saw how Robb's eyes widened as much as his gaze narrowed, confused but also ready to defend his family, Robb was a born protector.  
“I have no idea what's going on but you have my word, Jon. Your secrets are safe with me.” Robb swore and he raised his hand to lay upon his heart.

One last look exchanged with Torrhen and then Jon took a deep breath.

“Arthur is not my sire. He's my father but he's also not my father.”

It took a moment.

Long enough that Torrhen saw the need for some hints and roared like a dragon.

Robb gasped and uttered some words that Jon was sure would lead to him having his mouth washed with soap if Lady Catelyn overheard.

“You're Prince Rhaegar's son.” Robb gasped out and then blinked in stunned silence for a good minute before he stumbled back against a tree and slid down to the ground. In other words, Robb reacted almost exactly like Torrhen had a year ago, only that he had been sitting in sand and not in snow.

“His real name is Jaehaerys, can you imagine?” Torrhen chuckled and ignored the venomous look that Jon sent him, “Sounds real pomptous, doesn't it? Prince Jaehaerys.”  
“Cut it out, Torrhen. Jaehaerys the First was known to be the wisest King of all Targaryen Kings, he reigned the longest, he is remembered for peaceful times and he visited not only Winterfell but also the Wall.” Jon recalled for the three of them and Torrhen rolled his eyes hard enough to surely feel a headache coming. 

“He did that on his dragon,” Robb joined in again as well, exchanging another look with Torrhen that had Jon begin to narrow his eyes, “Vermithor, wasn't it? Largest dragon after Balerion and Vhagar.” Jon nodded and saw how Torrhen leaned forward, glinting eyes, smirking lips and all.  
“And here comes the second part...” He drawled all secretive and Robb snapped his head around to stare at Jon again.

“You have a dragon!?”

Jon answered, “I have an egg”, at the same time that Torrhen sing-songed, “Not yet”, Robb's face paled even further and with a high-pitched whine he dropped his face into his hands.

“You jumped a whole hoarde of direwolves on us,” Jon deadpanned then and stemmed his hands into his hips, “Don't pretend this is overwhelming now.” Robb looked up again, exasperation clear on his face as he once more chose to look at Torrhen.  
“Has he been this calm over this whole thing from the beginning?” He wanted to know and Torrhen snorted, glancing between the two of them.

“Aha, he hasn't stopped freaking out for a year now, he's just getting better at masking it.” Torrhen decided and Jon snatched up a hand full of snow to throw in Torrhen's face.  
“You're not learning that you're the rightful King of Westeros and not freak out.” Jon defended himself and then plopped himself down into the snow next to Robb, “It also wasn't exactly pleasant how I found out.” Jon explained and grimaced, holding out a hand when his white pup slipped out from beneath Robb's Grey Wind and Torrhen's perfectly named Shadow and came bumbling over to him. “Pa had planned things, wanted to explain all calm, right at the tower.”

“And instead?”

“Read the disgusting victor's truth in a book and then my name below Rhaegar Targaryen's in another.”

Robb winced in response and then smiled when Jon's pup wriggled himself between them, “That couldn't have been nice. Did Arthur explain then?”  
“After Jon blew up like wildfire at him,” Torrhen was quick to interject when Jon made to open his mouth to answer something completely different, Torrhen also pushed himself away from his tree and settled down in front of them, “Elion, Arthur, Aurane, Benjen, they all explained things to Jon first. And then Jon explained things to me. The dragon eggs were a thing waiting for Jon back in Starfall...and since some moons ago for my sister as well.”

Jon rolled his eyes over the slightly sharp tone in Torrhen's voice and the sidelook he cashed in as well, he knew perfectly well that Torrhen only did it for the drama.

“Which is how we found out about Jacaerys Velaryon.” He pointed out instead and Robb whistled, holding out a hand when Grey Wind appeared from a bush.  
“Oh, man, things are really never boring with you guys down South.” Robb commented, picking his pup up and giving the panting little boy a belly rub.  
“Direwolves, Robb, direwolves.” Jon hit right back, scratching Grey Wind behind his ears, looking around for his own white pup but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Fair enough.”

“None of us down South is also betrothed yet.” Torrhen snickered and dropped back into the snow, Jon made a face at it, the cold didn't bother him but he wasn't exactly so into embracing it as Torrhen was. Robb shifted and Jon grinned when he saw his ears begin to color.  
“I'm not betrothed either.” His cousin mumbled and Torrhen of course lunged for it like the vulture he could sometimes be, having smelled the kill.

“As good as.” He pointed out, smirk all over his face, “And the little Karstark is feisty. That's gonna be fun.” Robb growled in response and Grey Wind whirled around to echo the sound, prompting Torrhen's pup to bound over to playfully defend his master. Knowing that some wrestling was just right around the corner, Jon made himself scarce just as Grey Wind pounced on Shadow, he walked over to a rock by one of the hot springs.

White paws were climbing into his lap soon enough, red eyes silently asking him how they deserved to have such idiots as friends while Robb and Torrhen laughed, pelting each other with snowballs.

“Let them get it out of their system, they'll be useful again afterwards.” Jon mused and smiled when his pup rolled into a ball and nudged his head against Jon's hand.

“Hey, Jon?”

Looking up and around towards Robb, Jon found him grinning while Torrhen struggled with pulling Grey Wind and Shadow apart again.

“You gotta name him, you know? We can't keep calling him 'Jon's pup' forever. And don't make it a dragon name, he's a direwolf, he's a Stark.”

Jon rolled his eyes and looked down at his pup, sitting in front of him, so patiently and so silent, his father and Aurane had guessed that he might have been the runt of the litter and been born mute.  
“You'll get along perfectly with Mexes, she barely makes a sound either. The two of you will scare everyone onto the trees but I have a feeling Pa might allow you onto his bed more than he does with Mexes.” Jon chuckled, as much as his Pa and Aurane were still pretending to not be totally won over, Jon quite regularly caught them cuddling this adorable white pup. “How about Ghost? You certainly look the part, hm?”

His only answer was a head butt. 

\--

Of everything that Jon had expected when Torrhen and him stepped down into the crypts with Jon's Pa, Aunt Ashara, Uncle Benjen and Uncle Ned, it certainly wasn't to break out crying upon seeing Torrhen lean back in awe against Uncle Benjen and staring up at his father's statue.

“Hey, what's wrong?” His Pa was immediately kneeling in front of him, hands framing Jon's face and Jon knew that everyone was staring at them, “Hey, hey, Jon, talk to me.” And why did this have to hit him now, this had been supposed to be a wonderful moment. He would never be able to lay eyes on his mother but her statue in her likeness was still there and through his tears Jon glanced over to her.

“He doesn't have this,” He somehow managed to stutter out and as tears were flowing free, the words came tumbling out while he looked at his father's concerned violet eyes, “He doesn't have a place where people can mourn for him, where family can turn to to be close and remember. He didn't get to go home, he's stuck searching forever. He'll never be with the ones he loved, he'll never be with Ma.”

He could tell the exact moment his father understood because concern turned into heartbreaking agony.

“Oh, Jon...”

“They didn't even believe in the same gods, how will they find each other? How will he find rest?” Jon despaired and then took a shuddering breath, taking another step forward until he could hug his father who in turn wrapped strong arms around Jon.  
“Listen, Jon,” He began quietly, “Rhaegar and Lyanna may have not believed in the same gods but they believed in the stars just like you and me do. And your mother certainly was stubborn and determined enough to search for Rhaegar, she will not have moved on alone, she wouldn't leave him alone. And Rhaegar has a place in the Targaryen crypt...”

Jon shook his head and pulled away again, wrapping his arms tight around his chest he walked over to his mother's statue.

“But that is just a name on a plate. He's not there. Not his ashes, not his bones. Not like my siblings, not like Princess Elia. He's not there like Ma is here.” And he laid a hand upon the cold stone, tears still running down his face, “The rebels burned him and threw his ash into the Trident. They didn't think about him being more than a Prince, more than the leader of an army. He was a father, he had a mother. He was dead, what bad would it have brought Robert Baratheon to bring his ashes back to the Red Keep. Rhaegar wasn't going to ever come back, why couldn't he come home...”

And even if he had wanted to, Jon couldn't stop himself from sending a look up to a clearly uncomfortable Uncle Ned. His father was still kneeling on the ground, eyes closed, so still. Torrhen was watching him from in front of Uncle Benjen who in turn was staring up at his brother's statue just like Aunt Ashara.

“Why couldn't he come home?” He asked again at no one in particlar while he leaned forward and pressed his face against the cold stone of his mother's statue's leg. “I don't care if someone says it was war and risks with diseases couldn't be taken. They could have taken his bones back to King's Landing. Robert Baratheon chose not to, and I don't care if he's King and that someone could overhear, he is a terrible man.” Jon snarled quietly against the stone under his face, “He has no honor, he never did. He never deserved my Mama, he deserves to die alone. He started a war that killed my parents because he couldn't handle his petty jealousy.”

Wiping a hand over his face, Jon walked back to his father who was still staring into thin air but nevertheless wrapped an arm around him.

“Can I see the statue of the last king?” Torrhen's voice broke through the silence like a whip and everyone turned to stare at him, blinking in surprise or in downright incredulous knowing that only he could break awkwardness like that. Jon leaned back against his father and raised an eyebrow at Torrhen, “What? I want to see him. I was named after him.”

“Oh Torrhen,” Aunt Ashara sighed deep and heavy, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, “Your timing.” She deadpanned and Torrhen threw up his hands, either really not understanding or just playing dumb for effect, Jon wasn't sure.  
“Brandon couldn't have done it better himself,” Benjen commented with a chuckle, “Come on, nephew, I'll show you down.” 

“You coming, too, Jon?” Torrhen wanted to know but Jon quickly shook his head, leaning against his father's legs, Torrhen's smile fell.  
“No, I think I want to be alone with Pa right now.” Jon answered, smiling when Torrhen slightly frowned at him, “I'm okay, just wanna have some quiet time now.” Torrhen nodded and then let Benjen pull him away gently, Jon turned to look up at his Papa, “Can we go find Aurane?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

It didn't take long to find Aurane in the courtyard and upon taking one look at Jon's and Arthur's faces, Aurane was already hurrying over.

\--

“Do they respect the Targaryen crypts?”

“As much as Robert loathes the Targaryens, Jon, he would still never dare to desecrate a sacred place like that.” Aurane soothed that fear inside of Jon, cuddling the boy closer and keeping one eye on Arthur who was lying on his back next to them, staring up at the ceiling, “His own grandmother had been a Targaryen Princess and she was laid to rest right down in that crypt. And even Robert knows that he was chosen for the Throne not simply because he killed your father, Jon, but because of the blood in his body.”

“So they're resting in peace?” Jon wanted to know and something in Arthur squeezed painfully when he heard the true fear in Jon's voice.  
“They are.” Aurane insisted, framing Jon's face with strong steady hands, he had it more together than Jon and Arthur combined right now, the steady rock in the storm while the emotions threatened to drown them a little, “Every single one of them. The bones of your ancestors, the ashes of your siblings and Elia.” Aurane listed down and Arthur asked himself then if Jaime still drowned in his guilt, if he still stood in front of those three plates and asked himself for the millionth times what he could have done different.

“Except Rhaegar.”

“His cache may be empty, Jon, but he's got a place among his family as well.” Aurane tried to appeal to logic and heart at the same time, which admittedly was never really the right way to convince Jon of something. Torrhen was the one who chose with heart. Jon needed to be won over with his mind first.

“And still, his grave is the Trident.”

Stubborness at its finest.

“A better fate than Robert first intended for him.” Aurane didn't hold back in his efforts to give comforts and Arthur twitched while Jon's face simply darkened for a moment. What Robert had intended for Rhaegar was something that King Daeron and his sons had not even done with the Blackfyres.

If you killed your foe, then at least have the decency to give him a burial. Everything else made you a savage, made you a monster.

“It's still not right.”

“Of course it's not right,” Arthur spoke up as well, turning his head to look at them, Aurane's soft smile and Jon's determined scowl, “It's not right what happened to Rhaegar but it was war. And terrible and unforgivable things happen in a war. Many men died in the Rebellion, many of whom were burned and didn't get the grave they deserved, on both sides. Rhaegar was burned, Jon, that's what I focus on. He got the burial that every Targaryen has gotten since the times of the Valyrian Freehold.”

“You think he got to move on?”

“Yeah,” Arthur smiled, heart warm in his chest, “Rhaegar loved life but he longed for freedom all his life, a freedom that in his position only death could bring. He would have never sought it out on purpose but once he had it he would embrace it. And I never wanted him to stick around.” Arthur explained and caught the surprise in seagreen and violet eyes, he smiled softer still, ruffled through black hair and stroked a finger over Aurane's cheekbone.

“You didn't think he would have stuck around to watch over you? Over us? Ma was still alive when he died, so were Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. I wasn't even born.” Jon questioned him but Arthur shook his head. As much as he had never had anything left for the gods, ghosts had been a whole different topic. Starfall had the ever haunted Palestone Sword Tower, Sunspear had a whole haunted east wing, and once you spent even a single night at the ruins of Summerhall, you stopped denying yourself the presence of something around you.

“Regg always, always believed more in me than I did myself. He wouldn't have stuck around to assure himself I was going to be okay, he already knew. He is up there with the stars now, rolling his eyes over my melodramatics and being so incredibly proud of who you have become.” Arthur drew the picture for them all, Jon didn't duck his head down, probably for the first time ever he simply smiled a beaming grin, “Rhaegar and Lyanna, they are both no doubt happy to see us happy.”

“Do you think that they know I don't blame them for leaving me?” Jon asked, looking from Arthur to Aurane and then back again, Aurane bit his lips but Arthur knew what to say, begged Jon closer with a crooked finger.

“They know, Jon,” he told him, wrapping both arms around him, “And I promise you, my little wolf, that one day circumstances will be different and I'll ride with you to Summerhall, I'll sail with you to Dragonstone, and you'll feel as close to your father there as you do with your mother here.” He pulled the boy up a little then, held that beautiful face between both hands, “You don't ever have to search for them, Jon, no matter where you go, they'll be right with. Their blood runs through you, you are their legacy. Every step you take, they take them right along you.”

“What if he could have more?” Aurane suddenly spoke up in the silence that fell after Jon had nodded and cuddled back against his chest again, Arthur turned his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at a pensive looking Aurane. “He has the locket, I know, something to keep close, something that as long as nobody opens it remains undetectable. But then? The rubies are not exactly loaded with pleasant memories, the sword is too big for him.”

“Ey!”

“Too big for him yet,” Aurane corrected with an eye roll, “The shield is Lyanna's obviously. And the cloak is a dead giveaway.”  
“I'm still not following,” Arthur admitted and Aurane flapped a hand in his direction to remain patient while he obviously needed to get his thoughts in order. He gave a deep sigh, nodded to himself twice and then turned onto his side, fixing them both with a determined look, “None of the following leaves this room. Make sure you tell Torrhen to keep his mouth shut, too, Jon.” A quick nod followed, violet eyes were wide, Arthur raised both eyebrows, “Corlyn and I did something potentially very...stupid.”

“Corlyn knows how to do something stupid?” Jon muttered in surprise and Arthur couldn't help the laugh that burst past his lips upon the look of pure wonderful amusement that crossed over Aurane's face before he got serious again.  
“Yeah, well, I'm still convinced the lack of seawinds is the reason. After the honoring ceremony in King's Landing, I snuck down to the dungeons where the Targaryen crowns and jewels were being kept,” He immediately held up a hand when Jon's and Arthur's faces turned into thunderclouds, “We'll skip over that conversation for now. Fact is, Corlyn followed me and then had a kind of Loyalist fit, unleashed a lifetime's worth of frustration on Varys. I had never been that fascinated and that scared in my life before.”

Oh no.

“What did you do?”

“Corlyn's idea, by the way, just wanna get that out there before I say even a word more. All I wanted to do was get the necklace of Elia's that I had promised Doran...and well, Corlyn got Varys to help smuggle everything out.”

Silence.

Jon was gaping, entirely speechless and Arthur couldn't get half the words out that he wanted to say because of the very boy half on top of him.

“I'm not gonna tell you where we brought them, safety reasons, plausible deniability.” Aurane went on after a moment, “But they're safe now. Robert cannot touch them anymore, neither can anyone else who doesn't get Jon's trust. And if you never step in that path, they'll at least rest in peace where no one can condemn their history. When I went throw the shelves though while Corlyn ranted at Varys, I found some...personal things of Rhaegar's.”

Arthur was sitting up so quickly that Jon rolled off of him.

“I don't have them here,” Aurane reasoned, reaching out to hand to push him down again, “But I can get them once we're back in Dorne. Rhaegar's ruby ring, the secrets box he got from Jace and the cloak clasps he got from you. I thought Jon might like to have them, they seem fitting.”


	5. Part 1 - Being Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of important conversations happening here.  
> You will also see characters stating opinions about other characters that the reader already knows to not be true but they don't because they don't know each other so don't be confused.

In the Red Keep, Ashara Dayne had escaped to the Queen's Garden when the whispers, the looks and the hostility had become too much to bear. The garden was grand enough and filled with many hidden corners that she had easily been able to disappear, no one had bothered her there. Sometimes the training's yard was her destination as well, no anti-Dornish behavior there, not when her brother and Prince Lewyn were around.

 

In Winterfell, there wasn't a crowd who detested her, there weren't any whispers and the only person who truly showed her the cold shoulder and looked at her with dark toxic eyes was Lady Catelyn, but she was also Lady of the Castle. Escaping her was a tad bit more difficult, especially if one tried to avoid the cold.

 

No godswood then.

 

It left her with the crypts and angry pacing in front of Brandon's statue.

 

“I don't care how she treats me,” she muttered furiously, “But my children have done nothing wrong and they are showing only the best of their good sides. Our stubborn little boy hasn't shown this good manners in ever, he is way more mouthy around Prince Doran. And Rhaena holds more grace than Lady Stark ever could, and that's not my bias talking. Who does she think she is?”

 

She had made her flight to the crypts after watching for the fifth day in a row how Rhaena walked off with a sad face when little Sansa was taken away by her mother after breakfast for lessons in householding. With the boys roughhousing, sparring or riding, Rhaena would go and play with her little cousins or find Aurane to get comfort there.

 

'She needs to grow a thick skin' Aurane had told her when she had confronted him about her frustration yesterday, 'This is not gonna be the last time someone treats her like this. You need to let her fight her own battles.' She knew he was right of course, that no one knew better how to keep one's head up in a sea of enemies and prejudices than him, but Rhaena was still her little girl and every instinct was screaming at her to protect her children.

 

It also didn't help that she knew Torrhen had noticed it, too, by now and her wild wolf was not known for patience or delicate approaches. Attack first, find out real motives later, Ashara sincerely hoped that squiring for her brother now would get that out of her son at least a little.

 

“I get that she might see the child she was meant to have with you in Torrhen but,” She pushed a hand through her hair and breathed out loudly,”...Brandon, what did Jace's blood do to her? Why is being the bastard of two highborn unbetrothed people so much worse? What danger does Rhaena pose to her? Or her daughter? I just don't understand it.”

 

“Ash...”

 

She nearly screamed and jumped for the ceiling upon the soft voice calling out her nickname, whirling around with a hand pressed to her heart.

  
“The gods be damned, Artie.” She hissed at her brother who had approached on his bloody too silent steps, at his side Jon's white pup was chasing his own tail, which meant the boys were riding again. “You can't just sneak up on me down here.”

“I wasn't sneaking up on anybody,” Arthur deadpanned at her and then walked past her, she only saw the winter rose in his hands when he carefully set it upon the hands of Lyanna Stark's statue, “Just because you're blabbering loud enough to drown out everything doesn't mean I meant to scare you.” He pointed out and then picked up the white pup when Ghost had bumped his head against Arthur's leg. Ashara jumped again when something furry brushed against her own leg, she found dark eyes peering up at her, Shadow nearly grinning in joy, or at least it looked like that.

 

“No lecture for me then?” She asked her brother, crouching down to pet her son's new best friend, if the pup proved to be even only slightly as impatient and temperamental as her darling son then Andric would be grey before the year was out.

“No,” Arthur snorted and Ashara blinked when he actually simply made to leave again, “I don't fight your battles for you. You made me swear after Harrenhall and I take my oaths very seriously. And besides, I'm not the one Rae would want to defend her honor, she's got her own brother for that.” Arthur told her sweetly and then turned the corner again with a little wave.

 

Ashara waited a moment and then glanced over to Lyanna's statue.

 

'Big brothers, huh', she thought in her mind, 'You never stop loving them but the urge to throttle them also never goes away.'

 

With a sigh, Ashara straightened up again, Shadow pressed up against her leg, a steady warm presence, a connection between son and father that Torrhen needed. “Keep an eye on him, please, Brandon.” She pleaded with the gods and the death beyond them, “Give him a guiding hand. And find someone who may watch over my daughter.”

 

But even ghostly interference couldn't stop a wild wolf on a mission.

 

And maybe, just maybe, ghostly interference didn't mean a hand to stop but to support.

 

\--

 

“My mother tried to kill me.”

 

Catelyn looked up in total surprise from the feast preparations she had been observing from a vantage point in the great hall and she blinked at Torrhen standing beside her suddenly, having approached so very quietly, eyes set down upon the servants in the hall.

 

“In the womb, she tried to kill me while I was still inside her.” Torrhen went on and when he turned to look at her, Catelyn was thrown back by the hostility in those violet eyes, “She tried to kill me, with moon tea, with tansy, with other remedies that she had found out about. And she tried to do it because of people like you.” And that hit sat deep, his tongue was like a whip and Catelyn knew even with the few times only that she had met Brandon, that look in his eyes and that tone, that was all him. “She tried to kill her unborn babe because people like you think bastards are creatures of nightmares who better get murdered before they can harm even more people.”

 

Torrhen braced himself, hands curled into fists at his sides.

 

“So my mother tried to get rid of me. When she was still in King's Landing and even more once she was back at Starfall. Prince Rhaegar had just abducted Lady Lyanna when my uncle Andric made her stop because I refused to die and he couldn't swallow the risk to lose a sister where his brother had already vanished. My mother tried to kill me because she knew that people like you would always judge her harshly for a mistake she had made. The thing is, Lady Catelyn,” Torrhen snapped and no Aunt Catelyn anymore, a week of observing the tension between Lady Ashara and her had robbed her of that, “Two people are needed to create a child. My mother wasn't part of it alone, and she didn't know that my father was betrothed to another. My mother made a mistake but so did Lord Brandon, he knew what he was doing, and you knew even more that my mother wasn't the only one.”

 

He was a wolf on the prowl.

 

Even made a step closer to her.

 

“So stop blaming her, stop treating her like the very existence of her in these walls keeps you from breathing fresh air.” A snap turned into flashed teeth and a snarl, “We have treated you with nothing but kindness and politeness as your position as Lady Stark dictates. And in turn my mother has gotten nothing but an upturn of the nose and the cold shoulder and my sister...” He had to catch a breath, trembling with fury as he was, “My sister gets treated like something that could harm your perfect little Sansa. And I can assure you, Lady Catelyn, that my sister is nothing but perfectly mannered and well behaved, she is a diamond for Houses Dayne and Velaryon, Sansa could learn a lot from her. Rhaena and I didn't choose to be born bastards, and neither did my mother choose to love Brandon Stark and get with child. My mother didn't rob you of your planned future, that was the Mad King, that was frankly Lord Rickard's too narrowminded ambitions, and yet I see you treating Jon as if he was the best nephew you could have ever wished for.”

 

Catelyn stood stunned, her heart squeezing in her chest while this boy only a year her Robb's elder stood his ground before her, his body shaking with anger, tears swimming in his eyes because he was so worked up.

 

“I know what the King threatened Uncle Ned with, I know that he is holding mine legitimization over his head to assure his loyalty but I assure you, Lady Catelyn I have no intention of ever usurping Robb over his right to Winterfell. This isn't my home, this isn't where my future lies. My future is at Jon's side, and he won't ever care if my last name is Sand, Stark or Dayne. And I don't even care what you think of me, I don't care what people see me as because **I** know who I am. I know what I want, my family to be happy, my family to be safe and I want to include you in it, I want to count you into my family but I can't do that if you treat my sister any less than she deserves.” Angrily he wiped a tear away from his cheek.

 

“Torrhen...”

  
“I love my sister, Lady Catelyn, I love her so much and no one will ever harm her. No one will ever hurt her and if someone still dares, they will feel what a wolf raised among sharp spears can do to them. My father rode into the court of a Mad King for the sister he loved, and I would do nothing less for Rhaena.” Torrhen made clear and Catelyn felt nothing but shame inside herself, “My mother lost so much, so many loved ones were taken from her in that Rebellion, and the one man left whom she ever loved is someone she can't have. Rhaena and I are everything to her and she is the only parent my sister and I ever knew, and we will protect her.”

 

And then he came with an argument that knocked all breath out of her.

 

“I'm not asking for you to welcome her as a friend. I know my mother and you are of a different kind but I ask of you to treat her with the respect she deserves as a highborn Lady. House Tully's words are Family, Duty, Honor, and as much as you might want to wish it away, I am your nephew by marriage. I am family. And my mother and my sister are family to me, does that count for nothing? Is the shame over bastards really that deep in your heart? Bastards who aren't even your husband's?” He was crying angry tears for good then and Catelyn slowly crouched down but he edged away from her, a child backing away from her, “I want to call you aunt, and I want to mean it. I want to be proud of it but I can't do that as long as you don't treat my family right and follow the words of your own House. Have a beautiful afternoon, Lady Stark, I am sorry for having disturbed your time.”

 

He ran off before Catelyn couldn't even get a grasp back on her thoughts, think past this spear of ice he had shoved into her heart.

 

He was right.

 

This boy who was still very much a child, he was right, he was so right.

 

Oh god, what had she done. Was she truly that heartless that she couldn't even see past their lack of trueborn birth to recognize a wonderful child beneath? Had she scared these children so much?

 

Brandon's boy and his sister?

 

And oh, how much he would hate her. How much he would hate her for it, turning her nose up upon a woman he had loved but couldn't have, for a boy he would have given up all his rights to Winterfell, if only he had been allowed to love this child, and a wonderful sweet girl who was so afraid to walk the halls of Winterfell.

 

Guests in her home. Family.

 

Her mother was surely turning in her grave.

 

“Cat?” Ned's voice reached her as if through a haze, “Can you try and read this? Lord Glover's handwriting has really made a turn for the worst.” Ned chuckled and Catelyn saw how he turned the corner, freezing upon the sight of her still crouched low. “Cat?” The letter quickly got shoved into his doublet as Ned rushed to help her back up, face turned down in worry, “What happened? You're pale as snow.”

 

\--

 

The right thing would have probably been to alarm the others and ask especially Jon or Ashara where Torrhen might take off to when he was upset but Ned chose to try and find his nephew himself first. He didn't find Torrhen in his room or down in the crypts so he went to the third place where one was unlikely to meet Catelyn Stark in Winterfell under normal circumstances.

 

And he was lucky, as much as one could call it that when you found your nephew silently crying between the roots of the Heart Tree. He sank down next to where Torrhen was curled up, face hidden in his knees, hands fisted into red leaves.

 

“I'm not going to apologize.” Torrhen sobbed out after a few minutes of quietness, Ned kept his eyes on the gently swaying leaves of the trees across from them. “What she is doing is not right. Rhaena, Ma and I deserve better.” Ned sighed in response, he knew that the situation wasn't ideal, but he also knew that Catelyn only needed to try to improve it all. “She treats Aurane like a respectable person, why can't we have the same?”

 

“It's complicated, Torrhen.”

 

“It's not,” Torrhen protested immediately, bitter and exhausted, “It's really not complicated, that's just an excuse because you know that what she is doing is just not right. I don't care how bastards are treated in the Riverlands and within House Tully especially. We're not in the Riverlands here and it's a lie anyway because Holden tells completely different stories about Harrenhall and Stone Hedge.” Torrhen pointed out angrily and Ned was nine years old again, sitting basically in the same spot, listening to his older brother mutter about the unfairness of Ned being sent into the Vale by fathern.

 

It was one thing to see moments of Lyanna flash over Jon's face, to witness incidents where the boy was just all Arthur. It was adorable and heartwarming to see Sansa or Rhaena try to imitate their mothers.

 

It was a whole other story to know that Torrhen was so much like Brandon that it brought all the bad parts right along with the good.

 

Ned sighed and wished Arthur all the patience in the world to get Torrhen to a knighthood before wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulders, drawing him against him, “I know that what is happening is not right. It's not fair to your mother, your sister and you. I will talk to Catelyn, she is a very protective mother, she wants the best for all her children.” He realized he had said the wrong thing when Torrhen pushed away from him.

 

“And I don't?” Torrhen hissed, “Does everyone need me to ride to King's Landing and declare to the King himself that I have no intention to be used as a cyvasse piece in their stupid game of thrones.” Ned had to no idea what cyvasse was but he got the message anyway, raising placating hands he waited until Torrhen wasn't huffing anymore.

“I know, Torrhen, I know. It's very noble of you to offer but it won't be necessary, Catelyn will understand. We all know that you would never want any harm to come to Robb, or Sansa, Arya, Bran.” Ned soothed his nephew's anger and Torrhen sulked back against him.

 

“I hate the damn politics, leave that to Jon. Gimme a sword and someone to protect or someone to fight, that's what I'm good at.” Torrhen grouched, kicking at some leaves, and Ned's mind just then knew exactly what he had to do to cheer his nephew's moods up again for good, next to talking with Catelyn. He hoped Ashara, Benjen and Arthur would support him in his idea. For now though it was clear that Torrhen was too frustrated and riled up to listen to any word coming from a rational mind, so Ned ruffled his hair and went another way.

 

“Do you want me to find your Ma or Arthur? Jon?” Ned offered up but Torrhen shook his head, wiping a hand over his face again even if he wasn't crying anymore.

“If you see Jon, you can tell him but you don't need to find anyone. I just want a moment alone.” Torrhen told him quietly and Ned leaned down to lean their foreheads together again for a brief moment, Torrhen gave him a weak smile. “I'm gonna be okay, Uncle Ned.”

 

Upon returning to the courtyard, Ned took a deep breath when he found Rhaena furiously whispering with Jon, hands making quick cut off gestures that Jon was obviously trying to soothe, getting his hands slapped away for the effort. From the sidelines, Arthur and Aurane were watching them with curious frowns, seemingly confused over their niece's behavior, and everyone visibly tensed when Catelyn stepped out of the castle with Sansa and Alys Karstark at her heels.

 

Ned caught his wife's eyes from across the courtyard and he didn't know what to do, he had been blind and too busy to see how much tension there really had been between Ashara and Catelyn, how much that tension had truly come down upon Ashara's children. The somber mood suddenly hanging over the courtyard was only broken when Arya came flying out from behind her mother and sister, dodging Jon's grabby hands and attaching herself to Arthur's leg like a leech.

 

Her babbling over something Ned couldn't make out cut through this unmoving status and he got to watch how Catelyn approached Jon and Rhaena with a gentle smile, Rhaena tensed again a tad bit but stood her ground. Ned couldn't hear there as well what was being said but it must have clearly been something good because Rhaena suddenly smiled like the sun, nodding away. She patted a blinking Jon's shoulder and then hurried to Sansa and Alys who pulled her in between them, the three of them bundling off towards the greenhouse.

 

Ned finally got into motion again when Jon turned to Catelyn, seemingly asking something that had his face turn into a frown. He didn't reach them until Catelyn had explained and Jon closed his eyes for a deep breath.

 

“Where is he?” His nephew demanded of Ned the moment he was close enough and Ned pointed over to the godswood entrance, “I'll talk to him, Aunt Catelyn, but I can't fix everything. You have to apologize to him as well.”

“I know,” Catelyn told him in a quiet voice, Ned could see that she had been crying, reaching out to fix up the collar of Jon's cloak, she let him rush off then. “I will try and fix it.” He smiled at her promise, pulling her close with an arm around her waist.

 

“All the boy wants from you is to try,” Ned reminded her and turned his eyes to watch how Arya was certainly telling a story to Aurane who listened intently with a smile on his face, Arthur having no trouble holding Arya in his arms even when she wriggled around, leaned back and forth. “Family is complicated, you know that just as well as me. And I am honored that you are ready to fight for Robb's rights so much but Torrhen doesn't pose the slightest of danger to him.” Ned looked back to his wife who was looking towards the godswood, “Torrhen doesn't belong in the North, Cat, he belongs to Jon's side, wherever that may be. And wherever Rhaena may end up, I believe it would only be in Sansa's best interest to have a friend in her, to have friends in the South through her.”

 

She nodded, even if he could still see the trouble in her eyes, the war that her upbringing was fighting against the instincts of family. He waited as Catelyn looked over to Arthur, Aurane and Arya as well, how she smiled upon her daughter shrieking when Aurane tickled her, calling out for 'Uncle Arthur' to avenge her.

 

“I don't know where the future will lead, Cat, but these families are connected, bound together in promises and oaths to protect the life of a boy. Dorne and the North bound together to protect the legacy of the Targaryens and I know it's a frightening thought but this is my family, this is my blood, and I'd lay down my life for these children as I would for our own. Blood of my blood, Cat, I can only ask you to try and let them into your heart, too.” He told her gently and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

 

“I will try.”

 

\--

 

“I wanna visit you!”

 

If there were birds in the trees, they would have long since taken affront over the squeaking and shrieking of the little girl but Jon didn't care about it. He swung Arya around for the hundreth time, her legs flying while their direwolves ran around them, Nymeria yipping, Ghost's tail waggling hard enough to let leaves fly.

 

“I want you to visit, too, but you gotta be a bit older to come South.” Jon explained and stuck his tongue out when Arya scowled, quickly having his cousin grin again. “And until you're old enough to come visit, I'll write to you. As I promised. Every single moon I'll have a letter coming North for you, and if something happens even more often.” He spoke his promise again, stopping their wild spinning to pull Arya close. He knew she felt left out, the only Stark child who actually looked all Stark.

 

All of her siblings showed their Tully blood so far, favoring their mother in appearance. Alysanne shared Northern grey eyes with Arya but was Aunt Allyria's mirror image in everything else. Lyarra, Torrhen and him might look like Stark blood at first sight, Torrhen most of all, but the moment people saw their eyes they knew they were not.

 

Arya was small but she had already realized that she was different and Jon didn't kid himself that Sansa and her friend Jeyne were teasing her behind everyone's back. Jon was still hoping to catch Alys Karstark in a quiet moment to have an eye on Arya after Jon was gone again, he didn't want Arya to feel alone. Robb was doing his best but the older he grew the more duties he had, he couldn't keep Arya at his side at all times.

 

Jon and her had clicked, from the first day on, Arya had followed Torrhen and him like a shadow, only breaking off from time to time to stick to Jon's Pa. Jon knew Arya looked like his mother had as a child, and maybe, just maybe a small part of him wondered if in another life she could have been his sister.

 

Favourite cousin worked, too.

 

“And you know what you have to do for me?” He asked and Arya shook her head as he set her down on the rock by the hot springs, tossling her hair he brought their foreheads together, “You have to pay attention during your lessons with Maester Luwin because if you don't know letters, you'll never be able to read my letters on your own. And I can't tell you secrets if Robb has to read them to you.” Jon grinned when grey eyes flashed with something.

 

“I'll learn my letters.” Arya promised, nodding along to every word, Jon pulled back again and caught Arya easily when she just let herself fall forward towards him, “I wanna stay with you.” She whined nevertheless a moment later, changing up her words from one hour ago just slightly, Jon sighed, rubbed over her back while he carried her over to the nook in the weirwood tree roots where he had left his cloak earlier.

 

“I know, Arya but Winterfell is your home.” Jon comforted her, sitting them down and placing her on his legs, tipping up her chin to look at him, “Your Pa and your ma are here. And you would miss them and your brothers and sister.”

“Not stupid Sansa.” Arya grumbled and Jon tapped her ear for it, Arya scowled at him and stuck out her tongue. Ghost and Nymeria came closer, Jon's pup draping himself over Jon's boots and Nymeria slipping between Jon and Arya.

 

“You would even miss Sansa. Dorne is far away from here, Arya.”

 

“Have you,” she argued right back, “Have Torre, have Uncle Art.” And maybe in her four year old head that was enough but Jon knew it wasn't. The closest to experiecing a sibling bond with came with Torrhen for Jon but he was the little one there, Torrhen felt protective over him and Jon got to feel it in the opposite direction rather seldomly. He saw a lot though. He saw how Torrhen and Rhaena could be at each other's throats one moment and then right back to Torrhen watching over her and Rhaena coming to him for comfort.

 

He saw how Eleana looked at Edric as if her older brother was personally hanging up the stars for her in the sky each night. He saw how complicated the relationship was between Arianne and Quentyn and still they were there to stand up for each other if someone dared to say something against one of them, let alone against Trystane. He saw how much his uncles still grieved his mother, he saw how close his father was to his siblings.

 

“Listen, Arya,” he cupped her face with both hands, “When you're older, you'll understand better but siblings are something really wonderful and important. Sometimes you don't like them but you never stop loving them, or needing them. I wish I had a sister like you, and I would steal you in a heartbeat if I wouldn't know that your parents and Robb would be very sad about it.”

“Arya still be your sister,” Arya hit him right back, right in the heart and Jon smiled at her, chest filling with warmth, “If Torre is Jon's brother then Arya sister.”

 

“I'd love that,” he told her quietly and Arya crowded closer, squishing Nymeria between them for a moment when she hugged him, “And I promise you when you're older I'll show you Starfall. I'll show you all of Dorne, I'll go with you to see Essos but until then you need to grow up, take your lessons serious and listen to your parents.” Arya gave a dramatic eye roll and flopped backwards until she landed on Ghost. “I'm serious,” Jon laughed and pulled her back up again, “You wanna be my sister then you have to be good.”

 

“I'll be good.” Arya promised him in turn and then looked around when footsteps could be heard approaching, Ghost and Nymeria looked up, too. Jon smiled when Uncle Ned and his Pa appeared behind some trees, both of them relaxed, both of them looking happy.

 

“Hey, Arya, do you wanna come with me?” Pa's question made clear that it wasn't a coincidence for Uncle Ned and him to turn up here, Arya perked up, big grin on her face immediately and of course Pa understood the question before it was even out, “I'll show her to you again if you once more promise me to sit very still and not touch her.” Arya nodded furiously and earnestly and then scrambled off of Jon with one last rowdy hug. She raced around Uncle Ned and was already talking like a waterfall again before Jon's Pa had even picked her up.

 

Uncle Ned waited until both of them were far away not to overhear anything before he sat down on a rock not far from Jon, scratching Nymeria behind the ears who had chosen to stay behind with her litter mate. “I was wondering if we could talk, Jon.”

 

And yes, Jon had seen it coming.

 

“Of course, Uncle.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you about Robert.” Uncle Ned got out with the truth quickly and Jon was glad he didn't try to sugarcoat it in any way, he had seen this conversation coming. “I know you have grown up surrounded by people who have enough reasons to hate Robert for a lifetime or two but he is the reigning king and he earned himself the throne by...”

 

“Smiling at the corpse of my dead brother?” Jon snapped out furiously and got to his feet, he pulled up his cloak and fastened it around his shoulders again, “Listen, Uncle, I mean no disrespect but Robert Baratheon is never going to be a topic where you can expect me to talk peacefully over. And it has nothing to do with how people see him in Dorne. It is true that the Martells and Elion would appreciate to see Robert fall from grace rather sooner than later, I won't deny it, I wouldn't want to. It is true that Andric or Larra Blackmont or even Lord Yronwood will drink to Robert's unhappiness but you know what Dorne also is not really fond about still? Rhaegar.”

 

Uncled Ned watched him pace, both direwolf pups swinging their heads back and forth between them.

 

“I ask questions and I listen to answers, I read books and scrolls and Pa lets me read the letters that he gets from Ser Jaime but in the end, the opinions I have are my own.” Jon explained and took two steps closer to his quiet uncle, “When I stand here before you and tell you that Robert Baratheon is not a good king and that he is a terrible man that I am doing that out of the conviction of my own heart and through my own opinion. This is not Doran or Oberyn speaking, this is not the influence of Aurane or Elion and Oberyn's daughters. This is me, Uncle. This is me deciding that I will the man a monster who smiled over my murdered siblings and called them dragonspawn, who smiled over the butchered body of Princess Elia and looked content over the murder of an innocent woman.”

 

“Robert didn't order those murders, that was Ty...”

 

“Tywin Lannister, yes, I know, and the man got his due in the end. Which, in my eyes, happened five years too late. Five years in which Robert kept the man at court, a murderer of babes. He married the man's daughter, that's not spelling out condemning to me, that means congratulating him on it. I don't want to argue with you about him, Uncle, I really don't, which is why I don't try to bring the topic up. I know you're his friend and I respect the choices you have made but it doesn't mean I have to agree with them. I don't have to like Robert Baratheon, all I have to do is treat him politely on the one occasion I will have to face him, and I can do that even when I am raging on the inside.”

 

Uncle Ned sighed, pulled a hand up to drag down his face but Jon found that he wasn't done by a long shot.

 

“If the day comes that I decide I want to go for the throne that is rightfully mine, I shall not ask you to pick my side, uncle. I will not make you choose, I just wish I will not have to fight my family.” Jon told him, voice growing a little quieter, “One day I will make a decision but whether or not that includes a crown has nothing to do with me ever coming to accept what Robert Baratheon did. He is a Usurper, he took a throne that wasn't his, and all people who tell stories about how he won his crown in battle are idiots. Robert didn't slay the King when he killed my father, he killed the Crown Prince. Jaime Lannister ended the King and I don't see him sitting any thrones.” Jon let a little sarcasm play into the whole conversation, his uncle still watched him patiently, “No one has to worry that I lose it in front of King Robert anytime soon, I know what's at stake. I know what King Robert told my father the day he left King's Landing again, and forgive me, Uncle, but I'm not going to be overly welcoming to people who wish my father dead by their own hands.”

 

“I will admit that Robert made many mistakes, that he keeps making them currently with ignoring the problems of the smallfolk but I still also remember him differently, Jon.” Uncle Ned spoke up then and Jon walked close enough that he could sit down next to him, “I remember a boy who wanted to be my friend when I was a terrified kid in the Vale. I remember a friend who stood by me while I feared for my sister...”

 

“Because no one listened to Benjen...”

 

“Jon, what I need you to know is that if the time comes, I will not wage war against my own blood.” Uncle Ned told him and Jon looked up to him, swallowed heavily, “I will not go into war against my best friend either. If it comes to a rebellion for the restoration of your House, then I intend to keep the North out of it.” His uncle emphasized and Jon nodded, right away, “I love you, Jon, and there is a question hanging over your head that could make a different boy your age despair and I admire you for how serious you are taking this responsibility without losing your smile. Please don't let anyone ever take that away from you, stay true to yourself. Listen to others but make your opinions on your own.”

 

“I will, Uncle Ned, I will.”

 

They fell into silence then, for a bit, both of them watching the red leaves of the weirwood tree.

 

“I will tell you though, Jon,” his uncle curled a hand around Jon's chin and gently turned him to meet his eyes, “If someone so much as hurts a hair on your head, I will not stand around and watch. If someone hurts you, I will raise my sword. I made a promise to your mother to keep Arthur and you safe, and I will keep it until my end has come.”

 

\--

 

“You wanted to see me, Uncle?”

 

Ned smiled and waved Torrhen inside, leaning back in his chair when the boy closed the door behind himself and then walked over, curious eyes flickering around the room.

 

“I wanted to show you something. Come here.”

 

Ned waited until Torrhen had walked to his side but then grabbed the edge of the leather cloth that was conceiling what he had carried up to the Lord's solar himself earlier. He could sense how his nephew tensed as gleaming steel was revealed, Torrhen leaned forward, lips apart in little awe.

 

It pleased Ned, greatly so even, that Torrhen had awe left for a sword that was for all its meaning and sentimentality just a simple sword after all, no great decorations like the ruby adorned beauty of the one the Daynes held hidden in Starfall, nor was it the mysterious blade of the Sword of the Morning.

 

A careful finger came forward, hesitated then for a good long moment as violet eyes glanced over to him but Ned smiled and nodded for him to go along. Torrhen touched the hilt with one finger first and then let the rest of his hand follow, curious if gentle fingers trailing over the hilt, on top of which a wolf had been carefully formed in silver touched steel.

 

“It was your father's.” Ned said quietly and smiled a little bitterly when Torrhen's hand froze on the sword hilt and his nephew snapped his head around to look at him.

“Truly?” Torrhen gasped out and his eyes were dancing with joy and awe, and pride Ned noted with much warmth spreading through his heart for his nephew.

“Yes. I brought it back from King's Landing with me after the war.” He explained and watched how his nephew went back to looking over the sword.

 

Ned still didn't know just how Jon had found out the truth about his blood or who had explained it all to the boy in the end, but Ned did know that what Jon knew Torrhen did as well, there were no secrets between the two of them. They were as close as brothers should be, and Ned was glad they had each other to lean on.

 

Especially when in the light of those news about Rhaegar Targaryen, Ashara had sat her son down and told him the truth about how his father had died. He had taken it well, as well as a boy of then ten namedays could take it all in, and Jon and Torrhen had worked through it together. Ned could only hope that Robb would find a confidante like that for his future as Lord of Winterfell, someone to trust in, someone to find full loyalty in.

 

Taking in Theon first as a ward – but a hostage no less – might have been a good step but the boy was a few years older than Robb and one day Theon would return to Pyke, nevermind the fact that the boy couldn't travel as freely as other companions his son could find. Taking in Domeric when Lord Bolton had been searching for a place to foster his son, it looked more and more like it had been a good idea, despite the tension that remained between their Houses, the lad was a fine young boy and he got along well with Robb.

 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Ned reached out to ruffle his nephew's hair, Torrhen's black mane was growing softer as Ashara had put it in one of her last letters, it wasn't a complete mess anymore and contrary to Jon, the boy actually preened when someone ruffled his hair. Ned guessed that would change in a year or two once the boy saw girls as something else than annoying.

 

“I will send it South with your uncles, so that it may be yours when you come off age.”

 

Torrhen's eyes went round and wide.

 

“You'd really want me to have it?” He asked quietly but his voice heavy with something fierce, his eyes were glowing and he eagerly went back to exploring Brandon's sword.

“He would want you to have it, Torrhen. My brother's sword belongs with his son.” Ned clarified and he knew exactly what would happen next when Torrhen turned around to look at him again, the boy had a spine out of a steel, and a confidence that would bear him great help in his future, but now he was also still a boy of one and ten and doubt came easily at this time.

 

Ned knew that well.

 

He framed the boy's face with both hands and looked at him, “Torrhen, you might not have been born your father's trueborn son but I swear to you that Brandon would have loved you and been so proud of you. You don't carry his name but you bear his blood and his spirit. You're a Stark and a Dayne and don't let anyone ever tell you any different.” Torrhen beamed at him, all bright eyes and broad smile.

 

\--

 

“Has a Stark ever been a Kingsguard?” The question took Ned offguard but even some thinking gave him no results but his mind was also more preoccupied with what Torrhen's words might mean, especially for Ned's own future. They had walked out onto the gallery that oversaw the courtyard and Ned smiled when he saw Rodrik and Arthur talking while new household recruits trained under Jory's and Benjen's sharp eyes.

 

“Not for a Southern King.” He answered his nephew, eyes moving around until he saw Robb and Jon sparring off to the side, less actual training and more having fun, Domeric was watching them. Up on the battlements, Aurane was talking to Theon, the boy was grinning and Ned supposed that he was surely using the chance to ask the Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet some questions, it would do him good to have some safe contact to another islander.

 

He just hoped that Aurane would forgo telling Theon that it had been Theon's own older brother Maron who had nearly cost Aurane arm and life.

 

“Jon hasn't made up his mind yet, I can see the question in your eyes.” Torrhen told him with a cheeky grin when Ned turned to him, “Sometimes he thinks about it but I don't think he's talked to anyone about it aside from me.” Torrhen took maybe some of the worries away, “Maybe to Uncle Arthur and Uncle Aurane a little or to Lord Elion.”

 

And the one they had to look out for in that listing was Lord Elion. Ned was glad that the man harbored no ill feelings towards his murdered grandchildren's half brother, that quite on the contrary he offered grandfatherly guidance for the boy, but Ned also knew that the man had been a capable Prince Consort and a Commander in the Dornish army. Lord Elion Gargalen was a strategist, and he wanted revenge still, not only for his daughter and her babes but also for Prince Rhaegar.

 

Something that distinguished him from his sons and made him even more dangerous in Ned's eyes.

 

“And what are you gonna do if Jon chooses to not go in that direction?” He turned his thoughts back to his older nephew, Torrhen was grinning, looking down at his cousins, especially over to where black curls were bouncing as Jon spun around.

“I'm staying with Jon, no matter what. I'll become a Knight and stay at his side, no matter what he'll choose to do. If he goes for the throne, I'll turn my cloak white. For him. If he decides to let the throne be and do anything else, I'll still be right by his side.” Torrhen told him and it brought a proud swell into Ned's chest, the boy had way more figured out than his reckless nature let people assume upon first sight. “Jon's a good fighter but he's not a warrior. If he ever gets in danger of someone finding out the truth about him, he'll need someone to protect him.”

 

Ned laid a hand on his shoulder and Torrhen glanced up to him, “Don't ever change, alright? Don't ever change.” Torrhen grinned in response and nodded. “Okay, go now. Domeric looks bored.” Torrhen rushed off and Ned watched how he joined the other boys, and quickly then they were all laughing.

 

\--

 

“My Lord, the banner of House Reed has been sighted.”

 

Benjen smiled along with his brother as Jory gave the news and they both eagerly stood up to greet their old friend, Benjen especially was looking forward to it, he hadn't seen Howland since Harrenhall.

 

“Can you find the boys, Jory? I am sure Lord Reed would like to see Jon as quickly as possible and Ser Arthur might want to greet Lord Reed as well.” Ned told his guard captain and Jory nodded, vanishing down a side corridor as Benjen followed his brother out onto the gallery and then down into the courtyard.

 

The doors got opened not soon after, Ned must have forgone an official greeting with the entire household present on purpose, they both knew Howland would only be embarassed by it. It wasn't a great division that rode into the courtyard then just as five boys stumbled out of the stables in various states of being properly dressed. It ranged from Torrhen and Theon in roughed up tunics, Robb with his doublet half unbuttoned to Domeric and Jon in perfect condition.

 

Five guards surrounded Howland Reed on his brown spotted grey destrier, dressed in the green and brown tunics and armor of the crannogmen.

 

“Welcome to Winterfell.” Ned said with a smile once Howland had dismounted and walked over to them, bread and salt got offered and then old friends were embracing and Benjen got his chance as well.

 

“Howland.” He began with a grin as Howland stepped up to him, a grin that got broader when Howland looked him up and down before reaching out to hug.

“My, my, Benjen, you've become a man.” Howland commented with a smile in his thin face, “It's so good to see you again, it's been such a long time. I am so much looking forward to meet your lady wife and your little ones.”

 

“They'll be happy to meet you, too.” Benjen promised him and then gave a subtle nod to Ned who set a hand onto Robb's shoulder.

“Howland, I'd like you to meet Robb, my oldest.” Ned began and Robb smiled, disarmingly charming as usual. “And then of course, my nephews. A lot more grown since you last saw them.” Torrhen grinned, all bright and all of Ashara's knock them dead first impression, next to him Jon's smile was gentle and smaller but no less curious to meet the man who had back then been at the Tower of Joy as well.

 

“What a sight, that's a bright future for House Stark.”

 

“Not just for them.” Arthur spoke when he walked up to them, Aurane at his side, and stretched out a hand towards Howland, “It's a joy to see you again, my Lord.”

“I can only say the same, Ser Arthur, especially under these improved circumstances.” Howland said as he shook Arthur's hand and then smiled when Jon stepped up to Arthur's right side, “It is scarcely believable that a whole decade has passed. The first time I saw you, Jon, Ser Arthur was holding you in two hands and not much more.”

 

Benjen saw how Jon blushed ruby red but still held out a hand for Howland to shake.

 

“It's an honor to meet you, my Lord.” Jon told him and Benjen chuckled under his breath when he could see the questions burning under the surface, eyes glinting with the urge to hold them back until the newly arrived guest had had some rest.

“It is an honor for me as well, my boy.” Howland mentioned and Benjen couldn't help but notice that 'my boy' sounded like something completely different.

 

\--

 

“He is incredible.”

 

Arthur looked away from the sight of the setting sun far away over the snow covered fields and caught sight of Howland Reed walking towards him where he was standing up on the battlements.

 

“Never met a boy as young as him who asks such complicated questions, fires them out at a pace that no one but a Maester could keep up with.” Howland pointed out and came to a stop next to him, Arthur chuckled, turning back to look out over the beautiful view surrounding Winterfell.

“I think the Maesters in Starfall and Sunspear disagree with you there, Darvin and Caleotte can't keep up with him anymore either. He got you then?” Arthur wanted to know with a smile and Howland nodded.

 

“Aye, he got me. Wrung me out like a wet tunic, about my people, about Greywater Watch. About Harrenhall as well, he's got a good head on that neck of his.” Howland said and Arthur had heard less impressed answers from people who had gotten free from a Jon-questioning round. “And he's certainly got more patience in his pinky finger than Lyanna ever held in her whole body.”

“I am very thankful for that,” Arthur told this man who had been a total stranger back at the tower, he still didn't know Howland Reed well but he trusted him anyway, “It makes everything so much easier. It's exhausting enough to have one reckless boy to look after. That Jon overthinks everything at least twice makes me less scared for his future. Getting him out of his head on days where he needs it, with that I have enough experience already.”

 

“Listen, Arthur,” Howland changed his tone and Arthur looked down at him again, “The reason I came up here was that I had hoped to catch you alone. There is something I couldn't offer in a letter. I want you to know that if the necessity arrives and the boy and you need to hide from King Robert, then do not look for Essos again, come to the Neck and let me hide you in Greywater Watch.”

 

“Howland,...”

 

“You can tell me that I don't have to do this, it won't change a thing. Making this offer is important to me.” Howland got his point across and Arthur inclined his head to him in gratefulness, message understood, “But I duly hope it will not come for that.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Arthur mused as he looked out over the plains again, watching how the group of horses came racing out of the forest, the boys and some guards, “The mood among the smallfolk in the Crownlands and the Stormlands is rising in the wrong direction, they are very unhappy and they know they cannot look to their King. My brother tells me that Dorne is not the only region where the Lords are slowly getting uncomfortable, too. I listen to what Richard and Ashara hear from Barristan Selmy, I know what Jaime Lannister writes me. Jon hears all that and keeps saying that he will not make a decision until he is older but there is _something_ growing inside of him. He's already proven that he can be a wolf but this now? That's no snarling teeth and growl, that's...”

 

“A dragon's roar?”

 

“Fire and Blood.”

 

\--

 

Over the next day more Northern Lords and Houses arrived and in no time it was time for the grand feast that had mostly the children all riled up with excitement.

 

Even Robb wanted to dance with little Lady Alys.

 

When the evening had finally arrived, the children were charming all those hardened Lords and their entourages, no one more than Jon. But amongst all of that Benjen caught sight of someone who had him turn to find his brother, quick.

 

\--

 

“Why did you invite her?” Benjen suddenly appeared on Ned's left, having him jump quite a bit over his brother's silent approach and the harsh tone of his voice, “Ned, even you can't be stupid enough not to leave her out of this. This is gonna end in disaster and oh by the gods, where is Ashara? I need to warn her.” Benjen muttered and frantically looked around with shifty eyes, Aurane and Arthur raised eyebrows, Ned was so confused.

 

“Who are you talking about?” He demanded of his brother, looking around but finding nothing out of the ordinary, everyone seemed to be having a good time, the children were running around everywhere but behaving, even Arya didn't look like up to something for once, too busy copying Jon's every move as he talked with the Greatjon.

 

“Who am I talking about?” Benjen huffed and he sounded way less like the knight he had become in Dorne and instead more like the boy he had been once upon a time. “Barbrey fucking Dustin is who I am talking about. You remember? That old annoying Ryswell witch who thought herself the only love of Brandon's life? The one who lost husband and something-uncle at the fucking Tower of Joy?”

 

Ned grimaced, oh by the gods, _that woman_.

 

“Where is Lady Dustin?” He wanted to know and Benjen threw his hands in the air, a glance over to Arthur and Aurane told Ned that they weren't sure to laugh or pull a knife.

“I don't know anymore.” Benjen whined and Ned was so close to pulling his ear, “I lost sight of her, maybe she has since murdered Catelyn and Ashara in cold blood and kidnapped Torrhen because he looks just like his father!” Arthur tensed and Ned wanted to ring Benjen's head, him and his overreactions.

 

This was like seeing Benjen rile himself and the entire household up again because Lyanna had broken his favourite stick.

 

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated right now.” Ned grumbled at him, looking around once more but not catching sight of the mentioned grudge holding woman. Arthur and Aurane were still wordlessly staring between them and Ned could only imagine what went on in their heads upon the talk of witches.

 

“If my panic is not helping, I'll try it with black humor.” Benjen deadpanned and crossed both arms over his chest, stubbornly setting his chin, Ned for the thousand's time or so cursed the day that Lyanna and Brandon taught him that move.

“Where are the boys?” Arthur thankfully showed his everlasting calm and tried it with sanity, Benjen mumbled something into his beard and then shrugged.

 

“Haven't seen Torrhen in a while, Jon is fine, even sitting down no one can see them behind the Greatjon,” Ned flicked his brother's ear, Benjen ignored him, “Robb and Domeric are sitting right next to them, too. Witch Dustin is not going to have a go at Jon while her nephew and the Lord Paramount's heir are sitting with him.” Benjen concluded and at least Aurane decided the situation asked more for amusement than real defensive measures, lips curling into a grin.

“Do I have to fear for Arthur's skin?” Aurane chuckled, but Ned could also see the apprehension in him still, someone bracing himself to defend the man at his side because Arthur wouldn't open his mouth himself if anyone blamed him for what had happened at the Tower of Joy.

 

Not that he was to blame, he hadn't raised his sword against anyone.

 

None of the Northern Lords would complain, not even those who had lost sons and brothers. They knew that war was war, and that people died in battles.

 

Lady Dustin might not.

 

“His skin will be fine, worry for his soul.” Benjen growled and Ned stomped on his foot just as Howland drew up to them, soft smile getting a little shaky when he caught sight of their faces.

“Benjen!” Ned still chose to hiss at his brother who gritted his teeth, ruffling himself up until he could show easily that he was taller than Ned now.

“Don't you Benjen me, that witch is my childhood trauma.” He snapped back without the heat he had learned in Dorne, eyes going shifty again, “I don't know anymore how many nightmares I had because of Lady Barbrey. She might not come for Arthur and his white honor but Ashara and Catelyn are the perfect target.”

 

“Target for what?”

 

Ned had certainly never been happier to hear his wife's voice to get this ridiculous notion settled, Lady Dustin might hold her anger close to herself but she would never cause a scene. Catelyn, Ashara and Allyria stopped among their slowly growing circle, Lya sleeping away against Catelyn's shoulder, Ashara was holding a curiously looking around Bran. Aside from Arya, the other girls were giggling in a corner, Alysanne being rocked on Sansa's lap while she whispered with Rhaena and Alys.

 

“Did you invite Lady Dustin?” Ned asked his wife and Catelyn narrowed her eyes at him, already giving answer enough before she opened her lips.

“Of course not, why would I invite that _woman_ into my home?” She wanted to know in exasperation, soothing her niece a bit when Lya shifted in her sleep.

“What woman?” Ashara questioned from her side, Ned didn't know what his wife and Ashara had talked about but something had changed and maybe they would never become friends but they were getting along now.

 

At least it seemed that way.

 

It had probably also helped that Torrhen had declared that if he ever got offered a legitimization by a King – Ned had not not noted how the boy had left out Robert's name on purpose – he would choose Dayne over Stark to keep people from getting ideas.

 

“Lady Barbrey Dustin, born Barbrey Ryswell.” He explained calmly in response to Ashara's question, saw how Aurane leaned in to whisper something into Arthur's ear, Arthur's eyes were looking around.

“The witch?” Allyria spoke up next and Ned didn't hold himself back from stomping on his brother's foot, prompting dark eyes to glare up at him.

 

“Benjen!”

 

“What?”

 

“Brandon's first love?” Ashara stopped any arguments from breaking out with her question and Catelyn snorted, handing Lya over to Allyria who was still snickering.

“Lover. There were hardly any feelings involved on his side.” Catelyn deadpanned and then huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “What does that woman want?” Ned shrugged but was derailed from saying something when Arthur showed what he had been looking for.

 

“Where is Richard?”

 

Good question.

 

\--

 

Ned made two steps into the courtyard and then already heard the snappish voice of Lady Barbrey who had seemingly worked herself into a frenzy. He pulled Arthur right and they came upon the scene behind Mikken's smithy.

 

Torrhen had backed up against the smithy back wall, wide eyes staring up at the woman who was spitting at the feet of Ser Richard who had firmly planted himself between her and Torrhen but who wasn't looking any less wide-eyed. Ned supposed that sight had to mean something, Lonmouth had spent his childhood and youth in the Red Keep under a Mad King, there couldn't be a lot to scare him.

 

“Wow,” Arthur whispered quietly under his breath next to Ned and Ned grunted in reply, “You sure we don't need swords?” Ned sent him a look that Arthur shrugged away, “Grow up in Dorne and you'll think like me, too.”

“You should be capable of containing a single woman even without a sword.” Ned deadpanned and Arthur snorted but couldn't reply because they had walked up to a still shrieking Lady Dustin, Ned's ears felt like they were bleeding.

 

“...the justice for a grieving lady but what can you expect of a man who squired for a raping desillusioned prince!” Lady Barbrey spit out in that moment and Ned could barely finish his current breath before Arthur was tensed for a fight and Torrhen skipped shocked to go into a full blown meltdown of attack.

 

“You take that back!” He growled out as he suddenly stalked past a still motionless Ser Richard and built himself up in front of Lady Barbrey, “You take that back, **right now**!!”

“Or what, you little runt? You best remember on whose lands you are standing on! We do not sympathise with Loyalists up here.” Lady Barbey snarled out without any less malice.

“We also don't condemn them,” Ned had enough and finally used his voice to have them be noticed, Lady Barbrey whirled around, face draining of color when she laid eyes on a seemingly not enthused looking Arthur.

 

He wouldn't have been able to say a word though because Torrhen was on the attack and a wolf didn't stop when it had smelled blood.

 

“You have no right to make these accusations, no right at all!” Torrhen yelled, he was furious, words slipping out without him really noticing, Ned had never seen the boy so gone in his blood fueled rage, something had clearly hit him the wrong way, “You have no right to put judgement over people you do not know. You do not get to walk into this castle and attack my family without any reason.”

 

“Did you lose someone that day, bastard?” Lady Barbrey spit out and Ned winced when Arthur's eyes narrowed into danger, Richard was too busy still staring into thin air and gods they should have been out here sooner, “I think not, I am not letting myself be told about my rights by an ungrateful little boy.” Torrhen pushed himself even closer towards Lady Barbrey, this was not a fight he was gonna back down from and Ned wasn't actually sure if he wanted him to.

“You are insulting my friends for crimes they have never done. No one here killed your husband, no one here started a war, no one here _caused_ a war.” Torrhen argued, fists shaking with anger at his sides, Lady Barbrey sent a toxic look in Arthur's direction and Ned planted a firm hand on Torrhen's shoulder when his nephew growled more threatening still.

 

In the shadow of the stable entrance, gold eyes flashed in the darkness and Ned willed Marna to keep back, it was a miracle probably that Shadow hadn't appeared already but the pups had been locked into a box in the stables for the evening with so many strangers around, only Ned's wolf was able to climb out on her own.

 

“Even your head, my Lady, should realize that my uncle is not Prince Rhaegar, and neither is Ser Richard!” Torrhen gritted out between his teeth, muscles straining under Ned's hand. Lady Barbrey only huffed, Ned should have written Bethany Bolton himself to ask that her sister would not make the journey to Winterfell.

“Ser Arthur,” Lady Barbrey began and zeroed in on the quiet knight who would just take it all again, “can be happy that the men of the North haven't killed him already for what was done to our people by his King. His Prince.” She spit it out, actually spit down at Arthur's feet and Torrhen downright snarled at her, “He is right along to blame for what happened to my husband, for what was done to my Brandon. And who knows what he truly did to Lady...”

 

“I would think twice about finishing that sentence.” A sudden dark voice warned from the darkness and then Jon was walking out of the shadow of the Keep. Ned nearly swallowed his tongue upon the sight of his nephew, he had no idea who had dressed the boy for the feast, maybe he had even done it himself. His tunic was a dark red and with his black cloak outside now, he couldn't have looked more like his sire's blood if he tried as he past under the light of a torch.

 

Especially because the look in his eyes was not Dayne stubborness, it was not Stark endurance. This wasn't a wolf on the prowl to defend his pack, not the cold sharp light of a star ready to hurt.

 

This was a dragon ready to burn the world to protect his family.

 

A dragon willing to let only ashes remain to defend his father.

 

Both of them. The man who sired him and the man who had raised him.

 

Words that Arthur had written him a year or so back came back to Ned's mind while Jon oh so calmly and calculatingly stalked over to them, eyes only on Lady Barbrey.

 

'I wouldn't ever want to have him as an enemy, his words and his looks cut deeper than any sword in his hand ever could. He isn't even aware how powerful his calm anger can be. Is that something that Lyanna had, too? Because he doesn't get that from Rhaegar or any Targaryen I have ever known.'

 

And no, Jon hadn't gotten that from Lyanna either.

 

“My father loved my mother, and he protected her, he mourned her death and he carries her memory deep inside his heart. My Uncle Brandon was killed by the Mad King, something that neither of these men were present for. Your husband died at the Tower of Joy but it was neither under Richard's blade, nor was it under my father's and least of all was it under Prince Rhaegar's. Now, I do not know if it was Ser Oswell or Ser Gerold who killed your husband in battle combat, you would have to relay with Lord Stark or Lord Reed over it, but both of those knights are dead and cannot be blamed anymore. It does not give you any right though to put blame on the living.” Jon made clear and every single word cut like Valyrian steel.

 

“These men you are defending killed hundreds, boy.” Lady Barbrey was blind to the danger in front of her, or simply chose to ignore it, Ned had never known her well, nor had he wanted to.

“How many men did your husband kill at the Trident?” Jon hit right back without even needing to catch his breath, “People die in battles. In war. In skirmishes. To protect, to defend. It would be wise to learn the difference, Lady Dustin, otherwise holding a grudge might cause you more sadness than grief already does.”

 

“Aunt Barbrey?” Domeric called out from the direction of the courtyard and Ned turned to see him standing there with a confused frown on his face, “What are you doing out here? Ma is looking for you.” Lady Barbrey gave one last toxic look into the round and then walked off to join her nephew in going back inside, Arthur snapped out a hand to grab Torrhen's arm when the boy shook Ned off and made to go after them.

 

“Easy.”

 

“I hate her.” Torrhen snarled but also quickly snapped his mouth shut again when he met Jon's own blazing eyes, Ned saw it all, how a completely silent conversation passed between those two while Arthur kneaded Torrhen's tense shoulders. And then, like the flicker of a candle in a breeze, Torrhen was back to himself. “Alright, fine, we do it your way again. One day though, I'm gonna make you see that my way is so much more fun.”

 

Jon snorted and turned away to look up at Ser Richard who was just then dragging a hand down his face, and while one nephew asked him after his well-being and the other was quietly whispering back and forth with Arthur, Ned was stuck with wondering just how many of these confrontations he would face in the future if the truth ever came out.

 

What would he be?

 

A liar? A traitor? A protector?

 

And what fate could his nephews expect? A realm seeing them as saviors? Or as enemies?

 

\--

 

Not much later after they had returned to the feast, Ned stopped bringing the tankard to his mouth when he caught sight of neatly braided hair swinging in the air as the two women gracefully sat down across from the bench where Lady Barbrey Dustin had been directed to by her unimpressed sister. Lady Bethany looked up from her plate and after exchanging a quick short look with her liege lord's wife she inclined her head and rose to her feet, walking off with Allyria who quickly drew her into a conversation.

 

“That's gonna be good,” Benjen commented from his side a little too gleeful, eagerly watching Lady Dustin's stoically staring at Catelyn and Ashara. Ned elbowed him and preferred to look over the children, Sansa was dancing with Domeric and Rhaena and Alys were spinning around together. Torrhen was buried under a sleeping Alysanne and Bran in the corner, apparently Arthur's go-to measures if he needed the boy to sit still was to heap little cousins on him. Lya was ripping apart a piece of bread that her father had given her, little pudgy fingers pulling on black hair before stuffing the bread in Torrhen's mouth when he looked at her instead of glaring at Lady Dustin.

 

Robb – having been inducted into the happenings by Jon just a breath after he had met them back in the castle – was talking with some bannermen heirs, Theon at his side in deep conversation with Lord Manderly's son. The man himself was loudly laughing not far from them, Aurane nearly stumbling into a table under the force of the hand that came down on his shoulder. Arthur and Richard had not returned since Arthur had drawn the younger man off to the side to talk in private.

 

So Ned was left with a silently glowering nephew at his side, who was just then huffing loudly and rolling his shoulders. He didn't slump, not like Lyanna had always done it, Ned's sister had never been poised or graceful when she didn't put effort into it, slumped shoulders, shuffling steps, never sitting straight, Jon was none of that. Even now, angry and scowling and seemingly with a mind working hard, Jon was standing straight and graceful with ease, relaxed and visibly calm.

  
“I don't understand why she is this terrible,” Jon spoke up when he felt Ned's eyes on himself, “None of the other Northern Lords show any indication that they feel even slightly similar to Lady Dustin. Pa has been warmly greeted by all of them, Lord Glover invited us to Deepwood Motte when we return from the Wall and he lost his only son at the tower. He's not plotting to kill us in our sleep. I'm quite sure Lord Manderly is trying to robe Aurane into writing his brother to get one of his granddaughters into betrothal talks with Uncle Corlyn's sons.”

 

“Would Lord Velaryon welcome it?” Ned wanted to know curiously, looking over to Wyman who broke out into loud boisterous laughter over whatever Aurane had just then said.

“I see no reason on why not. Vaemon and Aethan are both still unbethrothed. And now, in condition to agreeing to the ridiculous new tax laws,” Jon grumbled and Benjen snickered, “Uncle Corlyn has gotten permission from the Crown to rebuilt Driftmark castle as a seat for Aethan. So, heir or secondborn, Lord Manderly's granddaughters would be taken care of. Fact is, Lord Wyman fought at the Trident and still here we are. The Greatjon, well...the man is half a step away from stealing Torrhen away or throwing his daughter at me. None of these people condemn Pa or Richard, no matter what they think about the Targaryens.”

 

“You can't always reason with people like Wi...” A sharp elbow dug into Benjen's side and Ned glared at him, prompting Benjen to sigh, “Lady Dustin. She's always been a snappy person, try and come at her with logic and she won't even listen to you because she knows you are right.” Benjen explained and Jon huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, in the next moment Arya barelled against him, stretching up arms to be picked up by him. Jon obied blindly, eyes looking up towards Ned.

 

“Uncle Brandon didn't choose her because of her wits, right?”

 

“No, he didn't.”

 

\--

 

“What is it with Stark blood and dragging innocent cousins out of their beds before sunrise,” Jon grumbled while stumbling through Winterfell's courtyard under Robb's pushing hands. Blinking out of tired eyes and missing the warm furs and Torrhen's stupid snores, and by the way, loved cousins. Torrhen was so gonna hear it from him later that he had just slept through Jon basically being kidnapped out of his bed.

 

What a great protector.

 

“Come on, let me do this and then I'll even serve you breakfast.” Robb reasoned but Jon was too freaking tired to even go with future payment for this stunt. He had staid up so late last night to finish his letter to Tyene and he wanted to sleep, not stomp through the snow and stumble over roots and branches.

 

Raising his head, Jon blinked when he suddenly found himself in the godswood, Robb still pushing and pushing from behind him, leading him now towards what was clearly the heart tree.

“What are we doing here?” Jon grumbled and finished his question with a yawn that made his jaw crack, Robb mumbled something he couldn't make out and didn't stop pushing until they were standing right in front of the carved face in the white bark of the weirwood tree.

 

“I need to talk to you.” Robb finally got out with what he wanted, walking around Jon to face him, Jon could barely keep himself from scoffing at him, Torrhen and him were clearly cut from the same wood. Both of them had something against the combination of Jon and sleep.

“Seriously? You drag me out of my bed before dawn just so we can talk?” Jon wanted to know and dragged both hands down his face before pulling his cloak closer.

 

“Talk about the future.” Robb continued with a sheepish smile as he already knew very well that Jon would not like it at all. Hands falling to his sides, Jon took a deep breath.

“Robb...” He got interrupted just as fast though as he had reacted, Robb shook his head and held up a hand, Jon couldn't believe he had used the same trick as Torrhen had about a year ago. Here right in front of the eyes of the gods, Jon would have no other choice but to listen.

 

No yelling, no storming off, no cursing.

 

Bloody cousins.

 

“Please,” Robb begged nearly, gesturing for Jon to sit down on a high grown root, “Let me get it off my chest and then you can say whatever you want to say in protest to it.” Robb offered and Jon dropped himself down on the root before muttering his “fine.” Robb smiled, content and happy and Jon looked at him, stomach squeazy, wondering not for the first time why people thought he was worth this.

 

“You know I can't do what Torre did,” Robb started and Jon blew out a long deep breath but he also nodded, knew of course that his cousins' situations were completely different. “Torrhen can do whatever he wants but I have my people to think about, have the North to think about. I pray that the day of me becoming Lord of Winterfell will still lie far far in the future but I cannot swear oaths or make promises now that would bring the North to war. You know that I'm on your side, though, I read your letters, I saw King's Landing and I saw the smallfolk. If you make that choice, I will not be torn between sides as my father is.”

 

“Robb, I do not need you to swear yourself to me and I do also not need your explanations on why you can't. I know, okay? I know and I...”

 

“You promised me to let me talk,” Robb interrupted him and Jon waved for him to go on, “Despite you insisting that you are not going to make that final choice until you are older, I know that you are thinking about it. Don't deny it, Torrhen all but confirmed it already. I saw you after the incident with Lady Dustin, I saw you talking with the other lords, something you are so much more at ease with than I am. Hells, Jon, you're handling this whole talk and double meaning game easier already than my father is.” Robb stopped when the bushes not far from them suddenly rustled but lost the tension quickly enough when Ghost and Grey Wind tumbled into the clearing.

 

“You are stronger and smarter than you give yourself credit for, and maybe that alone is reason on why you should go for the crown. You always think about others first, you put yourself last. Always. Torrhen says you got that from Uncle Arthur.” Jon could feel himself flush while Robb talked, Ghost jumping up against him, demanding cuddles while Grey Wind carried a stick over to Robb who got into the game without stopping to look at Jon, “I didn't come out here to say any of that though, not really. I'm not here to talk about what happens if Jaehaerys goes for the throne, we can have that conversation when the time has come. What I brought you out here for is a promise though, a promise for the path without crowns.”

 

And there he went and knelt down, too, just like Torrhen had a little over a year ago.

 

“I promise you, Jon, that you'll always have a place at my side and in Winterfell. You'll always have a home in the North, whether it be as a Dayne or a Targaryen, crown or not. You're my cousin, you're my _brother_. It doesn't matter to me what name you shall carry in the future, the other half is always gonna be a Stark.” Robb declared and he held Jon's eyes until it was Jon who had to look away, which Robb apparently interpreted as having to break the somber mood with some more lightheartened words, “And that first journey you take flying with that dragon of yours better be up here.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes and then squeaked when Ghost began to lick at his face, wrestling down his pup he was glad that Robb didn't push him to speak, the blockade in his throat needed to go before anything else but tears could follow that.

 

“Thank you,” he said a good six minutes after Robb had last spoken, sitting side by side with him now as they watched their pups fight over the stick, “It means a lot to me to hear it, and I won't ever forget it, I promise you.” Robb smiled and reached up to squeeze his shoulder, only for both of them to start shrieking in the next moment as they got drenched in hot spring water. “Ghost, no!”

 

“Grey Wind, come out of there right now!”

 

The pups seemed to share a glance in the water and then followed just that command, “Ghost, no, no, no! No!” Jon yelled but it was too late and he got buried under dripping wet fur, Robb spluttering when Grey Wind went directly for his face.

 

\--

 

“Did you imagine this could come to pass ten years ago?”

 

Ned looked away for a moment from where the boys were for once playing all together with the girls, older and younger ones. Howland stopped at his side and turned to observe the children as well. Sansa and Rhaena were giggling where a stack of hay had been declared the castle where the wildlings were holding the princesses, Sansa's pup and little Vhagar dozing in their laps despite the loud laughter and yelling.

 

Theon looked still half disgruntled that he had been declared leader of the wildlings, whereas Torrhen was almost glad to play the role of the villain of the story, Alysanne simply looked confused over what they wanted from her. Shadow busy trying to keep his little sister from joining Lady and Vhagar in sleep. Arya couldn't have looked happier on the pony that Robb was leading her around with, Grey Wind and Nymeria bouncing around them.

 

Jon and Domeric, the chosen princes to come to the rescue of the fair maidens – Ned was not entirely understanding the plot of whatever was going on down there – were whispering with each other, Ghost sitting on their feet, ears twitching.

 

“I think if you had told me ten years ago who would all come together to be a family, I would have wondered if the mushrooms you found in the Prince's Pass might have not been rotten afterall.” Ned replied to Howland's question after a good moment and his friend laughed. “But I am happy that it turned out the way it did. It brought me new friends.”

“They are good people, all of them,” Howland began quietly, smiling when Robb gave a big display of mock outrage when Arya stretched her arms towards Jon to get her down from her pony, “Loyal, kind, just. The Daynes are a strong family, and their friends are very loyal to them indeed, they're gonna need it.”

 

Ned glanced over to him, they had talked before about the abilities of the crannogmen and their dreams that more often than not were visions rather than just dreams.

 

“You saw something?”

 

“My son did,” Howland answered him, his eyes now on Jon most of all as the good princes led their attack on the wildlings, Sansa and Rhaena shrieking in mock horror. “He saw a great violet dragon landing on the Red Keep. And a white cloak turning black and red.” Ned took a deep breath, didn't need to ask to be certain what the red shape on it had been. His eyes wandered up to the battlements where Arthur and Aurane had sought out a quiet private moment, talking and looking out over the hills and forests. “Have you ever put a thought to what you will do if the boy decides to go for the crown?”

 

“I won't stand in his way,” Ned was easy and quick to respond, “But I haven't given thought to how I would face Robert.” He also confessed, remembering a conversation he had had with his brother years ago. “Ten years, Howland, ten years, and there doesn't pass one where he doesn't write me how much he still wants to run the dragons from this world. And all those of dragonblood that remain in Robert's eyes are Rhaegar's siblings lost in Essos and the Velaryons who he can't touch, so what will he do if he hears about Rhaegar's trueborn son?”

 

“To Jon? To Arthur? To any of us who aided in protecting the secret? I don't want to imagine,” Howland mumbled, “And I don't think that Arthur and Captain Aurane are seeing it any different. Those two alone will keep people from forcing Jon to make a decision, they are very protective of the boy.”

 

“They love him like a son, both of them. But they can't stop the plotting and the scheming. Dorne is muttering and preparing behind Arthur's back, I know enough from Andric Dayne. And Lord Velaryon isn't even hiding his endeavors from Aurane. The second Jon shows his true colors, Dorne and the Crownlands will rise with him.” Ned painted the picture and Howland hummed, deep in thought.

 

What was also clear was that the second Jon made a choice for the throne, Arthur and Aurane would flip so hard and so fast back to being Rhaegar's men.

 

“And with these new rumors about Dorne and the Westerlands creating bonds, Robert can rule out support from a Lannister army, and what's left for him then?” Howland abandoned watching over the courtyard to fully turn his attention onto Ned, “The Stormlands who are angry because their smallfolk is close to rebelling and their Lord Paramount is a child? The Riverlands with your ailing good-father unable to truly stop their quarreling? And before the Knights of the Vale or the Tyrell armies have reached King's Landing, the Velaryon fleet will have already flooded the city. Five years, Ned, I do not want to imagine what plans quiet smart strategists like Doran Martell and Corlyn Velaryon have come up with by now. One word from Jon and we might as well wake up the next morning and a dragon will sit the throne again.”

 

Ned sighed and leaned down to rest his elbows on the railing, “Honestly,” he began with a long breath being blown past his lips, it felt so good to talk so openly with an old friend who had been with him during the rebellion's good and bad days. “Robert is not the man I remember from our fostering days. He is still my friend but the crown changed him, the rebellion changed him. If it comes to war, I'll keep the North out of it. Jon understands it.”

 

“That's not the person I'm worried about not understanding, Ned.”

 

At the end of the raised corridor a door got opened and Benjen stepped out with Lya and Bran in his arms, the toddlers wiping clumsy hands over their still sleepy faces this early in the afternoon. It was as good a topic changer as Ned could have wished for.

 

\--

 

She looked around curiously, even pulled off a slipper to dip her toes into the water of the pool, careful not to get her dress wet while Jon spoke with the men who had been looking over the house in the corridor not far from her. She could hear Jon's still rather clumsy roughedged High Valyrian and the flowing voices of the Volantene Masters.

 

Jon sounded annoyed but not alarmed so she went back to exploring this new place, this place that was to be her new home, a steady place, something she hadn't had for years. And this house, with its beautiful garden, with the lemon trees in full bloom, it had been home to a part of her family before, a part she had never met, the only parts she had left.

 

A nephew, and distant cousins through her ancestors.

 

Her nephew and one of those cousins had lived here for years, in this white house in Volantis, with the grand path up to the house leading through low hanging trees, with the high walls around the garden protecting it from view.

 

It was a wonderful place, Daenerys Targaryen decided as she slipped back into her taken off shoe and picked up the slightly broken wooden toy dragon that had been placed on a low wall directly next to the pool. A peaceful place, something that so quickly felt like home. She purposefully ignored how her family had needed to flee from this house, Volantis was at peace again, stronger and more stable than before, this might finally turn into a place where Dany wouldn't have to run anymore.

 

“What do you think?” Jon surprised her when he spoke up, Dany having not even realized that the conversation in the background had stopped, nor that the men had left.

“I like it here.” She said with a smile, holding the toy dragon against her chest while looking over the lemon trees again, breathing in the smell of them that reminded her so much of Braavos.

“Then it's good that we will stay.” Jon told her and took off his cloak, a nondescript black one, no sign of the white and red griffins. “I will see to it that a letter gets sent to Starfall so that Andric Dayne will know, we may get some support from them, as well as from Driftmark. Guards, we could use them.” Jon mused as he sat down on one of the settees, they had two guards, one a household knight from House Connington who had fought alongside Jon in the Rebellion and staid with him after his departure into exile. And a man whom Jon had befriended over the years. Dany liked both of them, they were kind. “Maybe even a Septa or at least a handmaiden who can teach you the things I can't.”

 

Dany giggled over his grimace, she liked embroidery a little but didn't have anyone so far who could have taught her. Jon could teach her about history and politics, about her family's pasts and about what was going on in Westeros at the moment. He could help her improve her reading and her sums but that was about where it stopped.

 

“And a cook.” Dany supplied with some cheek and Jon laughed, something that she always liked to see, as he was always so grumpy and serious. “We definitely need a cook.”

“We'll get one, Princess.” He promised her and then pushed himself back to his feet, “Go and explore, pick a room for yourself. I'll be with Eric and Duck.” He winked at her and then walked off, Dany smiled and tugged the dragon into a pocket of her dress before walking outside.

 

It felt funny somehow how it was so easy to joke with Jon now, when upon him first appearing in her life these long moons ago, he had scared her something fierce. A hooded and cloaked figure dropping in through a back window into the room she had been locked up in after her brother and their caretakers had fallen sick. She hadn't known at that point that Viserys had already been dead for days and that the plague ridden house owners had been in talks with Masters of the city – Tyrosh – to sell off their dragon princess in exchange for rare medicine.

 

She had simply thought that this men with a shawl wrapped around the lower part of his head was another assassin of the Usurper's sent after her and her brother. She had screamed, so scared, powerless against this man who had merely wrapped her into a cloak and a shawl herself before hoisting her out of the window to another man. Dany had screamed for Viserys, no matter how much her brother had been lashing out towards her in those times before he had fallen sick, she had screamed for her big brother to save her.

 

The two men, who later introduced themselves as Lord Jon Connington and Ser Eric, had taken her down to the harbor and onto a ship with bright golden sails that had frightened Dany even more. Of course Viserys had told her about the might and the glory of the Golden Company, even when they hadn't wanted to help them.

 

Things had been cleared up then, as they sailed out of the plague ridden leagues of Tyrosh, introductions had been made and her fear and her confusion had melted away to hope. Despite the sadness over Viserys' death, Dany had also been so happy to hear about her still having family out there, a nephew who was older than her, her oldest brother's only remaining child.

 

Jon's grumpiness had taken a bit to get used to, especially compared to Eric's and Duck's cheery nature, but she had understood why life had turned Jon into the man he was now. And by now, she was quite sure she had chipped away at those defenses of her late brother's friend, gotten him to be at least fond of her, as she was of him.

 

He had saved her.

 

Something she would forever be thankful for.

 

After making her rounds around the garden in which all three children who had previously lived in this house had taken their first steps, Dany looked around the living quarters. The room she chose was filled with sunlight, the bed comfortable. In the closet, she found some books, clearly ones intended for children younger than her but she nevertheless took them out, eager to have something to read that wasn't the texts Jon dictated her to improve her letters.

 

She grinned when she saw that two of those books were on dragons and another one filled with children's stories about the dragonriders of Old Valyria.

 

“Here you are.” Jon found her what felt like hours later, Dany seated on the bed, two books open, “This the room you chose then? Eric and Duck are bringing our things up from the harbor.” The few ones Dany had to her name now, she nodded in response to Jon's question and showed him the book front when he stepped into the room. “Ah, he got that one from me. Think he was maybe four back then.”

 

“Who?” Dany questioned in confusion, watching how Jon picked up the book with the colorful drawings amongst the Valyrian children's tales.

“Your nephew.” Jon told her with a smile, giving her the book back, “If you want, you can write him a letter and I'll add it to the one I'm sending to Starfall. I am sure he would be happy to hear from you.”

 

\--

 

A sennight later, Dany was laughing over Jon's face when she begged him for another dance and reminded him once more that he had insisted that she learn. It had been a pleasant day with a trip down to the market, Jon complaining about the heat and Dany laughing more than she had been talking.

 

A peace that was broken when Duck came hurrying into the courtyard, sword drawn and face serious, Dany was immediately pushed behind Jon's legs.

 

“What happened?” He demanded to know while she clutched at the back of his tunic, heart pounding in her chest.

“Guests.” Duck answered in a cut off tone that Dany wasn't sure meant to be alarming or deeply annoyed, it was hard to tell with these two sometimes.

“What kind of guests?” Jon inquired, slipping out the dagger he always carried on himself, even in the safety of their home, Dany had already asked once if she might learn at some point, Jon hadn't looked impressed but muttered something over 'Arthur would want me to' before sighing and agreeing to think about it for the future.

 

“Guests from the Company.” Duck gave an explanation and when Jon tensed, Dany went rigid, hands shaking, “Guy says he knows you. I don't know _him_ , but he is wearing more golden rings than both of us together.” And that couldn't be good. “He and the other two men gave up their weapons when Eric asked for them. I believe they truly come in peace to talk with you.”

 

“Alright,” Jon very slowly said, as if still busy making up his mind, “Bring them in then.” Duck nodded and rushed off again, Jon turned around and looked down at Dany, one hand coming to frame her face, “You remember the sign we agreed upon, don't you?” The secret sign that trouble was there and she had to hide, Dany nodded, her hands wringing around each other, “If I give you that sign, I want you to run to my room and hide in the closet. You understand?” Another nod.

 

And then footsteps in the corridor that came from the house entrance.

 

Jon straightened up again, hand curled around the hilt of the dagger, Dany could barely hear anything over the noise her heart was making in her ears but curiosity be damned she still glanced out from behind Jon's legs.

 

It was only one man who stepped into the sun lit courtyard with Duck, he was tall, wearing shining armor over a greenish doublet, his cloak as equally colored.

 

Almost as light green as his eyes.

 

Dany stared at this stranger and then chanced a glance up to Jon's face, surprised upon seeing genuine shock there.

 

“How...How in all Seven Hells are you standing here?” Jon spluttered after a moment, relaxing with one whoosh of his breath past his lips, Dany went from scared to confused.

“It's been a long journey.” The stranger began and Dany certainly liked his voice, and the smile he was showing when he caught her looking, “One that taught me a lot, and taught me even more that it's time to go home.”

 

“Yeah, good luck with that. There are some brothers who are simply waiting to slap your face all the way back to the ruins of Valyria, and I don't mean your own.” Jon grunted out and sheathed his dagger again, Dany felt assured enough of the situation to step up next to him again, blood still rushing in her ears. “The nerve you have to turn up here. Without a word of announcing yourself.”

 

“You still have no idea how to take humor, Griff.” The stranger drawled with biting sarcasm and then quickly smiled again with kind eyes, crouching down so Dany didn't have to crane her neck so much to look at him. He held out a hand to her and Dany threw a look up to Jon, waiting out his nod before approaching this man. He brushed a light kiss against the back of her hand, having her blush fiercely and giggle briefly. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, cousin.”

“Cousin?” Dany wondered in total befuddlement, looking over this man with his light hair, eyes that looked more mint than green up close and sharp cheekbones. “We're cousins?”

 

“Distantly, Princess, through my grandmother. My name is Jacaerys Velaryon, but my family call me Jace.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Will tag the story with the addional characters in some days or so to let it remain a surprise for late incomers.  
> In the next chapter, we're going up to the Wall, to Castle Black and Maester Aemon.


	6. Interlude - Meanwhile in Dorne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than usual, now why is that the case:
> 
> I haven't updated this series in a while and that has a rather simple if time-consuming reason. Aside from a lot of changed in my life and work and work and work, I had an idea a while back that I really liked. An idea for Jon's future that I really wanted to integrate into this series but it needs a little restructuring of things that I had already more or less plotted into a line for this story.
> 
> And I need time for this restructering. So in short: I haven't given up on this, not at all, I just wanna do this story justice and really take my time to figure out where I wanna go with it now and how I wanna get there. I don't want to rush this and end up ruining what is undoubtly one of the fanfictions that I am most proud of among my works. This series means a lot to me and I want to give it my best and not some half assed attempt at spitting out regular updates.
> 
> I hope you guys can understand that.

“Come on, Oby, don't grow old on your elders!”

 

“Shut up, Andric!”

 

Elion Gargalen breathed out deep as he rounded the corner into the sparring yard, smiling at the guards who inclined their heads to him, it didn't take long until he could lay eyes on the grown men fighting. Worn out spear going against blunted sword, at least there they showed their age, even when their tempers wouldn't.

 

“My Lord,” Daemon Sand greeted him when Elion came to stand next to his wild son's current squire, “Shall I find you a spear?”

“No, Daemon, thank you but that won't be necessary,” Elion told the boy and then whistled sharply to draw the attention of Oberyn and Andric who jumped apart, grinning, smirking, gleeful, looking younger than ever, “Have you gotten it out of your systems yet?”

 

“Why, Pa, do you need to go a round yourself?” Oberyn taunted him and swung the spear over to his oldest daughter, Obara gladly took it and begged one of the guards over to go a few rounds herself. When none of them budged, Daemon reluctantly took the duel offer, passing by Oberyn and Andric on their way over to Elion who tittered at both of them.

“I assure you, dearest son, I am perfectly at ease with the situation and our soon to be arriving guests. Am I to take from this that you are not?” Elion inquired and Oberyn snorted.

 

“I'm fine with it,” Andric argued after Oberyn had pointed his way, “It's my wife who is not so happy about the Old Lion's son becoming her goodbrother.” Andric pointed out and grimaced a little, for all that Eyrin Dayne usually preferred to be a quiet lady, she was a Gargalen by birth and Elion's niece had claws that could hurt very much indeed.

 

He had the letters to prove it.

 

“I am hopeful that Eyrin will see the benefit of our situation.” He pointed out and Andric's look showed doubt in that statement but Elion hadn't come to pick apart their opinions, “Have you heard back from your siblings yet?” Andric's face was a very telling first response.

“I did. Unsurprisingly my sisters are not entirely impressed and I do not even want to imagine what the letters exchanged between them and Eyrin were saying, probably a way less polite and longer version of the words I got to read. Arthur on the other hand thinks it's a good decision.”

 

Well, Elion mused as he waved Andric and Oberyn off to freshen up before they had to ride down to the harbor, having Arthur agree to this move certainly meant he wouldn't have to argue with the most stubborn Dayne sibling to see reason in this. Ashara and Allyria would calm down again just like Eyrin, they would just have to meet Lord Tyrion.

 

They all would have to just meet the Old Lion's youngest son to make themselves a good impression of his character. Elion wanted this betrothal to happen, wanted this connection to the Westerlands and the Lannisters, despite everything that had been done to his daughter and two of his grandchildren.

 

The son was not the father.

 

It had held for Rhaegar until the end, despite his questionable actions.

 

Though admittedly, Elion was not going to make the same mistake again or let others make that mistake in his family, they would meet Lord Tyrion, judge his character with their own eyes and ears and not let the overall opinions and statements of others color a picture. Not another Rhaegar, he promised himself and then looked away from Obara trashing Daemon in the sparring yard when quick footsteps came closer from behind him.

 

“My Lord, your brother has arrived.”

 

\--

 

When Andric found himself standing at the harbor pier six hours later, strategically somehow placed between his goodfather and his former foster father for whatever reasons unknown to him, it sure was a sight to see a ship with Lannister sails docking not too far from them. He wasn't sure if it was the first time ever, but it surely was the first time in a long time since lions had found their way to Dorne.

 

Elion and Lord Mikkel were quiet, composed and quiet as it was their nature when meeting strangers, observation first and then an opinion and only then a reaction. Oberyn was as so often unable to hold still, shifting on his feet, grumbling under his breath but all of it calmed Andric more than it worried him, silence and stillness would have alarmed him, this was good, this meant Oberyn was relaxed.

 

Standing in front of him, being the best motivation for the assembled grown ups to behave themelves, Edric was watching the ship and the men in Lannister red coming upon the pier.. He was the only one of the children who had shown any interest in coming along to the harbor and Andric wasn't kidding himself that Edric was playing spy for his cousins.

 

He himself recalled the gentle words written by his brother when he caught sight of the small Lord walking ahead of the Lannister group. Arthur had met Lord Tyrion only once when the man had still been very much a child but Arthur had also kept – and once again did keep – a close friendship with said Lord's older brother and he certainly knew things about the man that none of them had.

 

When Oberyn twitched and looked like he was wanting to step forward, Elion made a gesture that had him stop again, Prince of Dorne or not, they were going to ride for the Water Gardens and that was Elion's domain.

 

“Lord Tyrion,” Elion started forward when the young Lord and his guards had stopped, there was a bit of trepidation and maybe even sceptisism on the Lannister guards' faces but Andric didn't interpret anything into it too deep. He knew how his own brother still eyed the Yronwoods, so much more hostility there, and the Yronwoods were allies. “It is a pleasure to welcome you in my home. I am looking forward to you experiencing Dorne and meeting her people. I'd like to introduce my companions.”

 

Elion turned half around when introductions had to be made and he pointed at his son first, “My son Oberyn. My brother Lord Mikkel.” He got to his brother next who looked Lord Tyrion up and down, Andric knew him well enough to see gears whirring in that sharp mind. Mikkel would only want the best for his youngest child and favourite daughter. When Elion turned to him, Andric held out a hand and showed a small smile, “Lord Andric Dayne and his son Edric.”

 

“An honor to make the acquaintance, Prince Oberyn, my Lords.”

 

\--

 

“Sister, I know you only want the best for me but I can assure you that Lord Tyrion would only want that, too. He is smart, he is witty, he is kind, and most of all is he honest.”

 

Andric had from a young age on learned that when the women in his life, whether it was family or friends, got into any arguments, he was forever doing the wrong thing. Keeping silent was the wrong move and giving comments was also not the right action, so Andric usually swung towards commentary because then at least no one could later pin him down on not having done anything.

 

The present situation included his wife and her youngest sister stuck in the ongoing debate over Eyrin's displeasure over Tyrion Lannister that was solely based on his last name, which wasn't a bad thing in general but Andric wanted her to see the bigger picture – not that he was ever going to say something like that.

 

“What does his physical appearance or lack thereof bring me? My husband's good looks will not protect me or my future children.” Anyta Gargalen continued her latest attempt to convince her oldest sister of why she was so set on picking Tyrion Lannister. Andric listened with both ears wide open but only one eye on the situation, below their balcony, Oberyn was walking with the young Lannister Lord. He didn't expect anything to go wrong but it was always a good idea to keep an eye on Oberyn at times. “Elia married the supposedly most handsome man in the Seven Kingdoms and he couldn't protect her from _anything_.”

 

Andric winced in the heavy silence that followed and he glanced over to his wife who was glaring down hard at a purple flower. Words like this usually weren't spoken out loud in their home, mostly because Arthur tended to get that guilty painful look in his eyes when the topic was touched, even a decade later there was still that small part in his brother that was blaming himself for everything that had befallen Rhaegar's loved ones.

 

“She makes a very good point, Eyrin.” Andric also couldn't help himself from finally speaking up, Eyrin's eyes were on him immediately, a clear warning in them.

“So he doesn't have the prettiest face,” Anyta rolled right over Andric's comment though, “I'll be the pretty one then. I can lead a conversation with him, that's more than I can say about my brothers' marriages.” Anyta snorted in amusement, Andric bit back his own laugh, like all of Mikkel's children, Eyrin and Anyta had his sharp features and dark eyes but the sisters were the only ones who had inherited their mother's blond hair. “My son will enherit Casterly Rock and _Wardenship_ over the West.”

 

“Another good point.”

 

“Will you shut up, Andric?”

 

“Eyrin, I would be Lady of Casterly Rock.” Anyta ignored their little exchange completely, contrary to Andric standing at the balcony railing and Eyrin pacing along the length of it, Anyta was still comfortably sitting in a chair, pale pink dress shimmering in the sunlight. “Who would dare to lay a finger on me or my children? With the Kingslayer as my goodbrother, as my children's uncle?” It was interesting time and world to live in when facts like that put your mind at ease. “With the Sword of the Morning being my sister's goodbrother? Give Lord Tyrion a chance to actually get to know him, it would mean so much to me, Eyrin. You know I value your opinion higher than father's, and father will listen to what you say, too.”

 

When Eyrin remained silent, Anyta threw a look towards Andric, seeking support and involvment openly now. Andric sighed and abandoned his watch over Oberyn's manners to turn his whole body towards his wife.

 

“Love, Edric likes Lord Tyrion and our son is so picky when it comes to meeting new people without Jon and Torrhen around.” He pointed out calmly, hoping another strategy might work in soothing Eyrin's nerves. “And Oberyn gets along with him. Oberyn! With a Lannister! If that doesn't speak for his character, I don't know what will.” He honestly had no idea what could convince Eyrin, he knew how deep the pain was, Elia had been more than just a cousin, she had been a dear friend.

 

“I simply do not appreciate my family being so involved in this game of thrones.” Eyrin snapped at him and Andric raised his hands in a soothing gesture, he had long since longed to remind people that when they looked at men like Oberyn and their raging wish for revenge against the tormentors of Elia and her children they were excluding the real driving force of Dorne's never dying hatred.

 

Elia's circle of friends. Lowborn girls who were strewn all over Sunspear and the Water Gardens in service now. Highborn girls who were plastered all over Dorne and the Crownlands as Ladies of Noble Houses now.

 

“My love, I fear our families have been involved in all of this long before we realized it.” Andric reminded his wife gently, lowering one hand again and turning the other one into an open palm gesture that had Eyrin sigh but cross over to him, letting him push a strand of hair out of her face.

“Sister, think of what this would mean for our family name, for the House we were born into.” Anyta continued her reasonings as well again, her enthusiam had managed to convince Andric that it wasn't Mikkel and Doran being the most driving force behind this potential alliance, Anyta really wanted this. “What does our father always call the two of us? The only useful ones. Our brothers are married to idiots, Antony has more paramours than he has trueborn children, Emylio's wife probably doesn't even _know_ how to spread her legs and...”

 

“Anyta! Andric, don't you dare laugh right now!”

 

It was so hard.

 

“Camyla is half a septa already and father will never marry Larysa off but I have a real chance here at getting the match of a lifetime.” Anyta smirked over Eyrin glaring at Andric's quivering lips and laughing eyes but continued speaking anyway, “The youngest of Lord Mikkel's children, the thirdborn daughter of his second marriage. And Lord Tyrion and I already have something in common, we both killed our mothers in childbirth.”

 

“You are being too crude, sister.”

 

“You nitpicking my language instead of my arguments tells me you are starting to open your mind at least.” Anyta grinned and smoothed out her dress again, Marten was in the process of reestablishing trading deals with Essosi cities, now where the cities had officially ended their wars again – Tyrosh of all things had come out on top in the end, something that Andric didn't necessarily consider as a good development in the long run – and a rich merchant had pressured him into taking on gifts for the royal family.

 

Stuck in a phase of dark colors, Arianne had pushed the received fabrics into the happily accepting hands of her friends.

 

Eyrin gave a moment of silence, her face still very hard to read for someone who didn't know her as well as Andric did, someone had just started to change her mind, even if Eyrin would never admit to it. She chose another way to voice her thoughts, “There will not be a marriage until I got my family back in Dorne. Every single one of them.”

“Don't worry,” Anyta beamed, happy about her sister's faint beginnings of approval, “I have explained to Lord Tyrion that even if a betrothal were to be confirmed, I would like a wedding with all my closest friends in attendance and Allyria is one of them. Lord Tyrion even agreed to the idea of a wedding here in Dorne, says it would be less boring than in the Westerlands.”

 

“I'm not sure Dorne will welcome his brother.” Andric threw in with a small grimace as Anyta got up and the sisters hugged. Even if they stuck Arthur and Richard to either side of Jaime Lannister for the duration of the wedding, the Kingsguard would not find himself well received, not yet, it needed more time.

 

“Lord Tyrion knows that as well and we'll have a second wedding at Casterly Rock with his family, it's maybe unusual but we're quite unusual people, too.” Anyta pointed out and Andric knew for good then that Anyta wasn't going into anything blind. She had weighed over the arguments, the pros, the cons and then come to the conclusion that this was an incredible opportunity for herself and Dorne. “Eyrin, I think I'll really like him.” She turned to Andric's wife who still looked a bit like disagreeing on principle but Andric could also see the first signs of more understanding in Eyrin's beautiful eyes. “And I promise you, if something ever happens that makes me fear for my safety, then I'll let Arthur and Oberyn make it a competition to get vengeance, and then smile in the end when Benjen will be there first.”

 

\--

 

“A brother on the Kingsguard,” Tyrion Lannister turned around when Andric's voice registered with him, abandoning the sight of the now empty pools to watch him approach, “a sister known for her beauty and cunning wit – though I admittedly have two of those. And soon married to a Gargalen daughter. It seems we might have some things in common there, my Lord Lannister.”

“Were you met with constant doubt and hesitation in your beginning as a Lord as well?” Tyrion wanted to know and Andric laughed as he came to stand next to him, with the setting sun dipping into the sea behind the palm trees and a light breeze, it was wonderful outside.

 

“You might not believe it, but I was.” Andric answered the question after a little pause, “I wasn't ready, not in the slightest, too torn up by my father's murder to tackle Starfall and all the responsibility that came with it.” He painted the younger man the picture, it had been at effort at times in the last days to remind himself that this new Warden of the West was only one and twenty but had been ruling over Casterly Rock for three years now in his own name and hands. The man was smart, he was quick and stubborn but fair. “Outsiders always see my house as nothing important, and maybe we are outside of Dorne. We're nothing great, not anymore, but here within my home country, House Dayne protects the West against the Reach. Against greedy Marcher Lords and Vulture Kings. I sat on the council of Princess Loreza, expected to give sound advice. It was terrifying. Most people saw only the wild Dayne brother in me, the one who either dug Oberyn out of trouble or slipped into it right along with him. They watch you with suspicion for other reasons maybe, but I had to prove myself just like you did.”

 

“You made it, Prince Doran calls you his closest advisor,” Lord Tyrion mentioned casually and Andric still got it, the man had done his research, he hadn't come to Dorne without picking apart whom he was bound to cross paths with, “I can see how these people here look at you now, and a troublemaker it surely is not.” Andric chuckled, he was not going to tell this Warden of the West that he was still very much a troublemaker, just on a different more distinct level now.

 

“I had years to gain experience.” Andric drew the picture, long months and years of figuring things out, of learning on the spot and under extreme pressure, of making mistakes and seeing his family got wrapped up in games that were so very dangerous. He had learned and he wasn't the green boy anymore who had once fallen into Lordship over Starfall too early because his father had been killed on open sea.

 

“You stood tall during the Rebellion, you are standing taller than ever now.” Lord Tyrion pointed out quietly, he was a man who could raise his voice but usually seemed to preferred other methods to be heard. Andric liked that in him.

“I have a wife who stands strong at my side,” he explained and smiled into the sun, “without her and my siblings, none of it would have been possible.” And he meant it, every single word of it, without Eyrin standing by his side and listening and just being there, he could have never done it. And neither could he have done it without Allyria's innocence and her positivity, her laughter and smiles after long nights of endless work. Without the long distance support of Ashara and Arthur.

 

“The one thing I am missing then.” Lord Tyrion begrudgingly admitted and Andric turned back to face him again, and the smile on his lips was honest.

“My good-sister is a smart kind woman who sometimes goes a little wild with her wit but it's nothing you can't keep up with.” He assured the younger man and leaned against the railing of the balcony. “The Gargalen sisters are loyal and stubborn and witty but they are also kind and caring. I heartily believe that Anyta and you will make a good match.”

 

Silence fell for a few minutes where both of them watched the gardens and the pools below, it was Tyrion who spoke up again, “Can I ask you something that might touch some nerves?”

“Of course,” Andric said and frowned a little, wondering over what it might be, not that they had anything to worry about really, he was sure of it.

“Your family holds close connections to the Velaryons, does it not?” Tyrion wanted to know and Andric nodded, he doubted anyone hadn't gotten it by now. “You do see and hear reports about what is stirring in the Crowlands and the Stormlands, right?”

 

Ah, that was where the path was leading.

 

“Nothing good for the crown is stirring there.”

 

“My brother writes me nearly every fortnight, about unrests, about questions and disappointment for King Robert.” Tyrion gave voice to things Andric knew as well, mostly because Jaime Lannister wrote Arthur the same exact things, still he listened, wanted to see how this man was seeing all of it. “And I also know that as much as they respect Jaime again and admire him for helping, their displeasure over the crown has dwindled to a low that is even worse than Aerys could have claimed to have. The smallfolk trust the Knights in White again, do not shy away from them any longer but the King? They don't call him mad but that's about the only word Jaime hasn't heard from them yet, and I have the feeling that is solely because they don't want to upset him. Back in the day, the smallflok didn't revolt against Aerys because of wildfire and Prince Rhaegar, King Robert has neither.”

 

“Do you think it could come to an open revolt?” Andric fished for a direct opinion and mismatched eyes looked up at him, the answer already visible on the young man's face before Lord Tyrion gave a short clipped “yes”. Andric smiled over in the direction of the sea for a moment and then made a gesture down to the garden paths, “Let's take a walk, Lord Tyrion.”

 

Maybe they had more things to talk about than Andric had previously expected.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when a new update will come. I hope soon but I can't promise anything.


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